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CHRISTIANITY 


AND 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY; 


OR,  THE  RELATION  BETWEEN 

SPONTANEOUS  AND  REFLECTIVE  THOUGHT  IN  GREECE 

AND    THE    POSITIVE    TEACHING    OF 

CHRIST  AND  HIS  APOSTLES. 


By  B.  F.  cocker,  D.D., 

PROFESSOR   OF   MORAL   AND   MENTAL    PHILOSOPHY   IN   THE   UNIVERSITY   OF   MICHIGAN. 


Plato  made  me  know  the  true  God,  Jesus  Christ  showed  me  the  way  to  hit 

St.  Augustine. 


_  LI 

\^'*'       OF  THE 

KIVERS 

NEW   YORK: 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  PUBLISHERS, 

FRANKLIN    SQUARE. 
1870. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1870,  by 

Harper  &  Brothers, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the 
Southern  District  of  New  York. 


TO 

D.  D.  WHEDON,   D.D., 

MY  EARLIEST  LITERARY  FRIEND,  WHOSE  VIGOROUS  WRITINGS  HAVE 

STIMULATED  MY  INQUIRIES,  WHOSE  COUNSELS  HAVE  GUIDED 

MY  STUDIES,  AND  WHOSE  KIND  AND  GENEROUS  WORDS 

HAVE  ENCOURAGED  ME  TO  PERSEVERANCE 

AMID    NUMEROUS    DIFFICULTIES, 

I  DEDICATE  THIS  VOLUME  AS  A  TOKEN  OF  MY  MORE  THAN 
ORDINARY  AFFECTION. 

THE  AUTHOR. 


^ 


OF  THE 

UFIVEES 
P  R  ET^KX  E. 


IN  preparing  the  present  volume,  the  writer  has  been  act- 
uated by  a  conscientious  desire  to  deepen  and  vivify  our 
faith  in  the  Christian  system  of  truth,  by  showing  that  it  does 
not  rest  so/e/y  on  a  special  class  of  facts,  but  upon  all  the  facts 
of  nature  and  humanity;  that  its  authority  does  not  repose 
alone  on  the  peculiar  and  supernatural  events  which  transpired 
in  Palestine,  but  also  on  the  still  broader  foundations  of  the 
ideas  and  laws  of  the  reason,  and  the  common  wants  and  in- 
stinctive yearnings  of  the  human  heart.  It  is  his  conviction 
that  the  course  and  constitution  of  nature,  the  whole  current 
of  history,  and  the  entire  development  of  human  thought  in 
the  ages  anterior  to  the  advent  of  the  Redeemer  centre  in,  and 
can  only  be  interpreted  by,  the  purpose  of  redemption. 

The  method  hitherto  most  prevalent,  of  treating  the  history 
of  human  thought  as  a  series  of  isolated,  disconnected,  and 
lawless  movements,  without  unity  and  purpose ;  and  the  prac- 
tice of  denouncing  the  religions  and  philosophies  of  the  ancient 
world  as  inventions  of  satanic  mischief,  or  aS  the  capricious 
and  wicked  efforts  of  humanity  to  relegate  itself  from  the  bonds 
of  allegiance  to  the  One  Supreme  Lord  and  Lawgiver,  have,  in 
his  judgment,  been  prejudicial  to  the  interests  of  all  truth,  and 
especially  injurious  to  the  cause  of  Christianity.  They  betray 
an  utter  insensibility  to  the  grand  unities  of  nature  and  of 
thought,  and  a  strange  forgetfulness  of  that  universal  Provi- 
dence which  comprehends  all  nature  and  all  history,  and  is 
yet  so  minute  in  its  regards  that  it  numbers  the  hairs  on  every 


vi  PBEFA  GE. 

human  head,  and  takes  note  of  every  sparrow's  fall.  A  juster 
r  method  will  lead  us  to  regard  the  entire  history  of  human 
thought  as  a  development  towards  a  specific  end,  and  the  provi- 
dence of  God  as  an  all-embracing  plan,  which  sweeps  over  all 
ages  and  all  nations,  and  which,  in  its  final  consummation,  will, 
through  Christ,  "  gather  together  all  things  in  one,  both  things 
^  which  are  in  heaven  and  things  which  are  on  earth." 

The  central  and  unifying  thought  of  this  volume  is  that  the 
necessary  ideas  and  laws  of  the  reason^  and  the  native  instincts 
of  the  human  hearty  originally  implanted  by  God,  are  the  primal 
and  germinal  forces  of  history ;  and  that  these  have  been  developed 
under  conditions  which  were  first  ordained,  and  have  been  continu- 
ally supervised  by  the  providence  of  God.  God  is  the  Father  of 
humanity,  and  he  is  also  the  Guide  and  Educator  of  our  race. 
As  "  the  offspring  of  God,"  humanity  is  not  a  bare,  indetermi- 
nate potentiality,  but  a  living  energy,  an  active  reason,  having 
definite  qualities,  and  inheriting  fundamental  principles  and 
necessary  ideas  which  constitute  it  "  the  image  and  likeness  of 
God."  And  though  it  has  suffered  a  moral  lapse,  and,  in  the 
exercise  of  its  freedom,  has  become  aHenated  from  the  life  of 
God,  yet  God  has  never  abandoned  the  human  race.  He  still 
"magnifies  man,  and  sets  his  heart  upon  him."  "He  visits 
him  every  morning,  and  tries  him  every  moment."  "The  in- 
spiration of  the  Almighty  still  gives  him  understanding."  The 
illumination  of  the  Divine  Logos  still  "teacheth  man  knowl- 
edge." The  Spirit  of  God  still  comes  near  to  and  touches 
with  strong  emotion  every  human  heart.  "  God  has  never  left 
himself  without  a  witness  "  in  any  nation,  or  in  any  age.  The 
providence  of  God  has  always  guided  the  dispersions  and  mi- 
grations of  the  families  of  the  earth,  and  presided  over  and 
directed  the  education  of  the  race.  "  He  has  foreordained  the 
times  of  each  nation's  existence,  and  fixed  the  geographical 
boundaries  of  their  habitations,  in  order  that  they  should  seek 
the  Lord,  and  feel  after  and  find  Him  who  is  not  far  from  any 
one  of  us."  The  religions  of  the  ancient  world  were  the  pain- 
ful effort  of  the  human  spirit  to  return  to  its  true  rest  and 


PRE  FA  CE.         -  vii 

centre — the  struggle  to  "  find  Him  "  who  is  so  intimately  near 
to  every  human  heart,  and  who  has  never  ceased  to  be  the 
want  of  the  human  race.  The  philosophies  of  the  ancient 
world  were  the  earnest  effort  of  human  reason  to  reconcile  the 
finite  and  the  infinite,  the  human  and  the  Divine,  the  subject 
and  God.  An  overruling  Providence,  which  makes  even  the 
wrath  of  man  to  praise  Him,  took  up  all  these  sincere,  though 
often  mistaken,  efforts  into  his  own  plan,  and  made  them  sub- 
serve the  purpose  of  redemption.  They  aided  in  developing 
among  the  nations  "  the  desire  of  salvation,"  and  in  preparing 
the  world  for  the  advent  of  the  Son  of  God.  The  entire  course 
and  history  of  Divine  providence,  in  every  nation,  and  in  every 
age,  has  been  directed  towards  the  one  grand  purpose  of  "rec- 
onciling all  things  to  Himself."  Christianity,  as  a  compre- 
hensive scheme  of  reconciliation,  embracing  "  all  things,"  can 
not,  therefore,  be  properly  studied  apart  from  the  ages  of  ear- 
nest thought,  of  profound  inquiry,  and  of  intense  religious  feel- 
ing which  preceded  it.  To  despise  the  religions  of  the  ancient 
world,  to  sneer  at  the  efforts  and  achievements  of  the  old  phi- 
losophers, or  even  to  cut  them  off  in  thought  from  all  relation 
to  the  plans  and  movements  of  that  Providence  which  has 
cared  for,  and  watched  over,  and  pitied,  and  guided  all  the 
nations  of  the  earth,  is  to  refuse  to  comprehend  Christianity 
itself. 

The  author  is  not  indifferent  to  the  possibility  that  his  pur- 
pose may  be  misconceived.  The  effort  may  be  regarded  by 
many  conscientious  and  esteemed  theologians  with  suspicion 
and  mistrust.  They  can  not  easily  emancipate  themselves 
from  the  ancient  prejudice  against  speculative  thought.  Phi- 
losophy has  always  been  regarded  by  them  as  antagonistic  to 
Christian  faith.  They  are  inspired  by  a  commendable  zeal  for 
the  honor  of  dogmatic  theology.  Every  essay  towards  a  pro- 
founder  conviction,  a  broader  faith  in  the  unity  of  all  truth,  is 
branded  with  the  opprobrious  name  of  "ration aUsm."  Let  us 
not  be  terrified  by  a  harmless  word.  Surely  religion  and  right 
reason  must  be  found  in  harmony.     The  author  believes,  with 


viii  PREFACE. 

Bacon,  that  "  the  foundation  of  all  religion  is  right  reason." 
The  abnegation  of  reason  is  not  the  evidence  of  faith,  but  the 
confession  of  despair.  Sustained  by  these  convictions,  he 
submits  this  humble  contribution  to  theological  science  to  the 
thoughtful  consideration  of  all  lovers  of  Truth,  and  of  Christ, 
the  fountain  of  Truth.  He  can  sincerely  ask  upon  it  the 
blessing  of  Him  in  v^^hose  fear  it  has  been  written,  and  whose 
cause  it  is  the  purpose  of  his  life  to  serve. 

The  second  series,  on  "Christianity  and  Modern  Thought," 
is  in  an  advanced  state  of  preparation  for  the  press. 

Note. — It  has  been  the  aim  of  the  writer,  as  far  as  the  nature  of  the. 
subject  would  permit,  to  adapt  this  work  to  general  readers.  The  refer- 
ences to  classic  authors  are,  therefore,  in  all  cases  made  to  accessible  Eng- 
lish translations  (in  Bohn's  Classical  Library) ;  such  changes,  however,  have 
been  made  in  the  rendering  as  shall  present  the  doctrine  of  the  writers  in  a 
clearer  and  more  forcible  manner.  For  valuable  services  rendered  in  this 
department  of  the  work,  by  Martin  L.  D'Ooge,  M.  A.,  Acting  Professor  of 
Greek  Language  and  Literature  in  the  University  of  Michigan,  the  author 
would  here  express  his  grateful  acknowledgment. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I. 

PA  OB 

Athens,  and  the  Men  of  Athens 13 

CHAPTER  n. 
The  Philosophy  of  Religion 53 

CHAPTER  HI. 
The  Religion  of  the  Athenians 98 

CHAPTER  IV. 

The  Religion  of  the  Athenians  :  Its  Mythological  and  Sym- 
bolical Aspects 128 

CHAPTER  V. 
The  Unknown  God K}^S 

CHAPTER  VI. 
The  Unknown  God  [continued) (193 

IS  GOD  COGNIZABLE  BY  REASON? 

CHAPTER  VII. 
The  Unknown  God  [continued) <  224 

IS  GOD  cognizable  BY  REASON?  [continued).  ^-^ 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
The  Philosophers  of  Athens 265 

PRE-SOCRATIC  SCHOOL. 

Sensatt'onat:  Thales— Anaximenes— Heraclitus— Anaximander— 

Leucippus— Democritus. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

PAGE 

The  Philosophers  of  Athens  {continued) 295 

PRE-SOCRATIC  SCHOOL  {continued). 

Idealist :  Pythagoras— Xenophanes—Parmenides—Zbno.    /Natural 
Realist:  Anaxagoras. 

THE  SOCRATIC  SCHOOL. 

Socrates. 


CHAPTER  X. 
The  Philosophers  of  Athens  {contitmed) 326 

THE  SOCRATIC  SCHOOL  {contitmed).  ^^""'^ 

Plato. 

CHAPTER  XI. 
The  Philosophers  of  Athens  {continued) 353  ] 

THE  SOCRATIC  SCHOOL  {continued). 
Plato. 


CHAPTER  XII. 
The  Philosophers  of  Athens  {continued) 388  ! 

THE  SOCRATIC  SCHOOL  {continued). 
Aristotle. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 
The  Philosophers  of  Athens  {continued) ♦  .    .    422 

POST-SOCRATIC  SCHOOL. 
Epicurus  and  Zeno. 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
The  Propedeutic  Office  of  Greek  Philosophy 457 

CHAPTER  XV. 

The  Propaedeutic  Office  of  Greek  Philosophy  {continued).    .    495 


"  Ye  men  of  Athens,  all  things  which  I  behold  bear  witness  to  your  care- 
fulness in  religion ;  for,  as  I  passed  through  your  city  and  beheld  the  ob- 
jects of  your  worship,  I  found  amongst  them  an  altar  with  this  inscription, 
To  THE  Unknown  God  ;  whom,  therefore,  ye  worship,  though  ye  know 
Him  not.  Him  declare  I  unto  you.  God  who  made  the  world  and  all  things 
therein,  seeing  He  is  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth,  dwelleth  not  in  temples 
made  with  hands  ;  neither  is  He  served  by  the  hands  of  men,  as  though  he 
needed  any  thing ;  for  He  giveth  unto  all  life,  and  breath,  and  all  things. 
And  He  made  of  one  blood  all  the  nations  of  mankind  to  dwell  upon  the  face 
of  the  whole  earth  ;  and  ordained  to  each  the  appointed  seasons  of  their  ex- 
istence, and  the  bounds  of  their  habitation,  that  they  should  seek  God,  if 
haply  they  might  feel  after  Him  and  find  Him,  though  he  be  not  far  from 
every  one  of  us :  for  in  Him  we  live,  and  move,  and  have  our  being ;  as  cer- 
tain of  your  own  poets  have  said,  For  we  are  also  His  offsprifig.  Forasmuch, 
then,  as  we  are  the  offspring  of  God,  we  ought  not  to  think  that  the  God- 
head is  like  unto  gold,  or  silver,  or  stone,  graven  by  the  art  and  device  of 
man.  Howbeit,  those  past  times  of  ignorance  God  hath  overlooked ;  but  now 
He  commandeth  all  men  everywhere  to  repent,  because  He  hath  appointed 
a  day  wherein  He  will  judge  the  world  in  righteousness  by  that  Man  whom 
He  hath  ordained ;  whereof  He  hath  given  assurance  unto  all,iln  that  He 
hath  raised  Him  from  the  dead." — Acts  xvii.  22-31. 


Tvnv 
CHRISTIANITY 

AND 

GREEK     PHILOSOPHY. 


CHAPTER  I. 

ATHENS,  AND  THE  MEN  OF  ATHENS. 

"  Is  it  not  worth  while,  for  the  sake  of  the  history  of  men  and  nations,  to 
study  the  surface  of  the  globe  in  its  relation  to  the  inhabitants  thereof  ?" — 
Goethe. 

THERE  is  no  event  recorded  in  the  annals  of  the  early 
church  so  replete  with  interest  to  the  Christian  student? 
or  which  takes  so  deep  a  hold  on  the  imagination,  and  the  sym- 
pathies of  him  who  is  at  all  familiar  with  the  history  of  An- 
cient Greece,  as  the  one  recited  above.  Here  we  see  the  Apos- 
tle Paul  standing  on  the  Areopagus  at  Athens,  surrounded  by 
the  temples,  statues,  and  altars,  which  Grecian  art  had  conse- 
crated to  Pagan  worship,  and  proclaiming  to  the  inquisitive 
Athenians,  "  the  strangers  "  who  had  come  to  Athens  for  busi- 
ness or  for  pleasure,  and  the  philosophers  and  students  of  the 
Lyceum,  the  Academy,  the  Stoa,  and  the  Garden,  '^  i/ie  un- 
known God.^^ 

AVhether  we  dwell  in  our  imagination  on  the  artistic  grand- 
eur and  imposing  magnificence  of  the  city  in  which  Paul 
found  himself  a  solitary  stranger,  or  recall  the  illustrious 
names  which  by  their  achievements  in  arts  and  philosophy 
have  shed  around  the  city  of  Athens  an  immortal  glory, — or 
whether,  fixing  our  attention  on  the  lonely  wanderer  amid  the 
porticoes,  and  groves,  and  temples  of  this  classic  city,  we  at- 


14  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

tempt  to  conceive  the  emotion  which  stirred  his  heart  as  he 
beheld  it  "  wholly  given  to  idolatry  j"  or  whether  we  contrast 
the  sublime,  majestic  theism  proclaimed  by  Paul  with  the  de- 
grading polytheism  and  degenerate  philosophy  which  then  pre- 
vailed in  Athens,  or  consider  the  prudent  and  sagacious  man- 
ner in  which  the  apostle  conducts  his  argument  in  view  of  the 
religious  opinions  and  prejudices  of  his  audience,  we  can  not 
but  feel  that  this  event  is  fraught  with  lessons  of  instruction  to 
the  Church  in  every  age. 

That  the  objects  which  met  the  eye  of  Paul  on  eVfery  hand, 
and  the  opinions  he  heard  everywhere  expressed  in  Athens, 
must  have  exerted  a  powerful  influence  upon  the  current  of  his 
thoughts,  as  well  as  upon  the  state  of  his  emotions,  is  a  legiti- 
mate and  natural  presumption.  Not  only  was  "his  spirit 
stirred  within  him"  —  his  heart  deeply  moved  and  agitated 
when  he  saw  the  city  wholly  given  to  idolatry — but  his  thought- 
ful, philosophic  mind  would  be  engaged  in  pondering  those 
deeply  interesting  questions  which  underlie  the  whole  system 
of  Grecian  polytheism.  The  circumstances  of  the  hour  would, 
no  doubt,  in  a  large  degree  determine  the  line  of  argument, 
the  form  of  his  discourse,  and  the  peculiarities  of  his  phrase- 
ology. The  more  vividly,  therefore,  we  can  represent  the 
scenes  and  realize  the  surrounding  incidents ;  the  more  thor- 
oughly we  can  enter  into  sympathy  with  the  modes  of  thought 
and  feeling  peculiar  to  the  Athenians ;  the  more  perfectly  we 
can  comprehend  the  spirit  and  tendency  of  the  age ;  the  more 
immediate  our  acquaintance  with  the  religious  opinions  and 
philosophical  ideas  then  prevalent  in  Athens,  the  more  perfect 
will  be  our  comprehension  of  the  apostle's  argument,  the  deep- 
er our  interest  in  his  theme.  Some  preliminary  notices  of 
Athens,  and  "  the  Men  of  Athens,"  will  therefore  be  appropri- 
ate as  introductory  to  a  series  of  discourses  on  Paul's  sermon 
on  Mars'  Hill. 

The  peculiar  connection  that  subsists  between  Geography 
and  History,  between  a  people  and  the  country  they  inhabit, 
will  justify  the  extension  of  our  survey  beyond  the  mere  topog- 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 


15 


raphy  of  Athens.  The  people  of  the  entire  province  of  Attica 
were  called  Athenians  ('A0r7vatot)  in  their  relation  to  the  state, 
and  Attics  ('Am/co/)  in  regard  to  their  manners,  customs,  and 
dialect/  The  climate  and  the  scenery,  the  forms  of  contour 
and  relief,  the  geographical  position  and  relations  of  Attica, 
and,  indeed,  of  the  whole  peninsula  of  Greece,  must  be  taken 
into  our  account  if  we  would  form  a  comprehensive  judgment 
of  the  character  of  the  Athenian  people. 

The  soil  on  which  a  people  dwell,  the  air  they  breathe,  the 
mountains  and  seas  by  which  they  are  surrounded,  the  skies 
that  overshadow  them, — all  these  exert  a  powerful  influence  on 
their  pursuits,  their  habits,  their  institutions,  their  sentiments, 
and  their  ideas.  So  that  could  we  clearly  group,  and  fully 
grasp  all  the  characteristics  of  a  region — its  position,  configu- 
ration, climate,  scenery,  and  natural  products,  we  could,  with 
tolerable  accuracy,  determine  what  are  the  characteristics  of 
the  people  who  inhabit  it.  A  comprehensive  knowledge  of  the 
physical  geography  of  any  country  will  therefore  aid  us  mate- 
rially in  elucidating  the  natural  history,  and,  to  some  extent, 
the  moral  history  of  its  population.  "  History  does  not  stand 
outside  of  nature,  but  in  her  very  heart,  so  that  the  historian 
only  grasps  a  people's  character  with  true  precision  when  he 
keeps  in  full  view  its  geographical  position,  and  the  influences 
which  its  surroundings  have  wrought  upon  it.'"* 

It  is,  however,  of  the  utmost  consequence  the  reader  should 
understand  that  there  are  two  widely  different  methods  of  treat- 
ing this  deeply  interesting  subject — methods  which  proceed  on 
fundamentally  opposite  views  of  man  and  of  nature.  One 
method  is  that  pursued  by  Buckle  in  his  "  History  of  Civiliza- 
tion in  England."  The  tendency  of  his  work  is  the  assertion 
of  the  supremacy  of  material  conditions  over  the  development 
of  human  history,  and  indeed  of  every  individual  mind.  Here 
man  is  purely  passive  in  the  hands  of  nature.  Exterior  con- 
ditions are  the  chief,  if  not  the  only  causes  of  man's  intellectual 

*  Niebuhr's  "Lectures  on  Ethnography  and  Geography,"  p.  91. 
'  Ritter's  "  Geographical  Studies,"  p.  34. 


1 6  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

and  social  development.  So  that,  such  a  climate  and  soil, 
such  aspects  of  nature  and  local  circumstances  being  given, 
such  a  nation  necessarily  follows.^  The  other  method  is  that 
of  Carl  Ritter,  Arnold  Guyot,  and  Cousin."  These  take  ac- 
count of  the  freedom  of  the  human  will,  and  the  power  of  man 
to  control  and  modify  the  forces  of  nature.  They  also  take  ac- 
count of  the  original  constitution  of  man,  and  the  primitive  type 
of  nations ;  and  they  allow  for  results  arising  from  the  mutual 
conflict  of  geographical  conditions.  And  they,  especially,  rec- 
ognize the  agency  of  a  Divine  Providence  controlling  those 
forces  in  nature  by  which  the  configuration  of  the  earth's  sur- 
face is  determined,  and  the  distribution  of  its  oceans,  conti- 
nents, and  islands  is  secured ;  and  a  providence,  also,  directing 
the  dispersions  and  migrations  of  nations  —  determining  the 
times  of  each  nation's  existence,  and  fixing  the  geographical 
bounds  of  their  habitation,  all  in  view  of  the  moral  history  and 
spiritual  development  of  the  race, — "  that  they  may  feel  after, 
and  find  the  living  God."  The  relation  of  man  and  nature  is 
not,  in  their  estimation,  a  relation  of  cause  and  efiect.  It  is  a 
relation  of  adjustment,  of  harmony,  and  of  reciprocal  action 
and  reaction.  "  Man  is  not " — says  Cousin — "  an  effect,  and 
nature  the  cause,'  but  there  is  between  man  and  nature  a  man- 
ifest harmony  of  general  laws." "Man  and  nature  are  two 

great  effects  which,  coming  from  the  same  cause,  bear  the  same 
characteristics  ;  so  that  the  earth,  and  he  who  inhabits  it,  man 
and  nature,  are  in  perfect  harmony."^  God  has  created  both 
man  and  the  universe,  and  he  has  established  between  them  a 
striking  harmony.  The  earth  was  made  for  man ;  not  simply 
to  supply  his  physical  wants,  but  also  to  minister  to  his  intel- 
lectual and  moral  development.  The  earth  is  not  a  mere 
dwelling-place  of  nations,  but  a  school-house,  in  which  God 
himself  is  superintending  the  education  of  the  race.     Hence 

'  See  chap.  ii.  "  History  of  Civilization." 

^  Ritter's  "  Geographical  Studies  ;"  Guyot's  "  Earth  and  Man  ;"  Cousin's 
"  History  of  Philosophy,"  lee.  vii.,  viii.,  ix. 
^  Lectures,  vol.  i.  pp.  162, 169. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


17 


we  must  not  only  study  the  events  of  history  in  their  chronolog- 
ical order,  but  we  must  study  the  earth  itself  as  the  theatre  of 
history.  A  knowledge  of  all  the  circumstances,  both  physical 
and  moral,  in  the  midst  of  which  events  take  place,  is  absolute- 
ly necessary  to  a  right  judgment  of  the  events  themselves. 
And  we  can  only  elucidate  properly  the  character  of  the  actors 
by  a  careful  study  of  all  their  geographical  and  ethological  con- 
ditions. 

It  will  be  readily  perceived  that,  in  attempting  to  estimate 
the  influence  which  exterior  conditions  exert  in  the  determina- 
tion of  national  character,  we  encounter  peculiar  difficulties. 
We  can  not  in  these  studies  expect  the  precision  and  accura- 
cy which  is  attained  in  the  mathematical,  or  the  purely  physical 
sciences.  We  possess  no  control  over  the  "  materiel "  of  our 
inquiry  ;  we  have  no  power  of  placing  it  in  new  conditions,  and 
submitting  it  to  the  test  of  new  experiments,  as  in  the  physical 
sciences.  National  character  is  a  complex  result — a  product 
of  the  action  and  reaction  of  primary  and  secondary  causes. 
It  is  a  conjoint  effect  of  the  action  of  the  primitive  elements 
and  laws  originally  implanted  in  humanity  by  the  Creator,  of 
the  free  causality  and  self-determining  power  of  man,  and  of 
all  the  conditions,  permanent  and  accidental,  within  which  the 
national  life  has  been  developed.  And  in  cases  ^h.^^^ physical 
and  moral  causes  are  blended,  and  reciprocally  conditioned 
and  modified  in  their  operation ; — where  primary  results  un- 
dergo endless  modifications  from  the  influence  of  surrounding 
circumstances,  and  the  reaction  of  social  and  poHtical  institu- 
tions j  —  and  where  each  individual  of  the  great  aggregate 
wields  a  causal  power  that  obeys  no  specific  law,  and  by  his 
own  inherent  power  sets  in  motion  new  trains  of  causes  which 
can  not  be  reduced  to  statistics,  we  grant  that  we  are  in  pos- 
session of  no  instrument  of  exact  analysis  by  which  the  com- 
plex phenomena  of  national  character  may  be  reduced  to  prim- 
itive elements.  All  that  we  can  hope  is,  to  ascertain,  by 
psychological  analysis,  what  are  the  fundamental  ideas  and 
laws  of  humanity ;  to  grasp  the  exterior  conditions  which  are, 

2 


1 8  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

on  all  hands,  recognized  as  exerting  a  powerful  influence  upon 
national  character ;  to  watch,  under  these  lights,  the  manifesta- 
tions of  human  nature  on  the  theatre  of  history,  and  then  apply 
the  principles  of  a  sound  historic  criticism  to  the  recorded 
opinions  of  contemporaneous  historians  and  their  immediate 
successors.  In  this  manner  we  may  expect,  at  least,  to  approx- 
imate to  a  true  judgment  of  history. 

There  are  unquestionably  fundamental  powers  and  laws  in 
human  nature  which  have  their  development  in  the  course  of 
history.  There  are  certain  primitive  ideas,  imbedded  in  the 
constitution  of  each  individual  mind,  which  are  revealed  in  the 
universal  consciousness  of  our  race,  under  the  conditions  of 
experience — the  exterior  conditions  of  physical  nature  and  hu- 
man society.  Such  are  the  ideas  of  cause  and  substance ;  of 
unity  and  infinity,  which  govern  all  the  processes  of  discursive 
thought,  and  lead  us  to  the  recognition  of  Being  in  se ; — such 
the  ideas  of  right,  of  duty,  of  accountability,  and  of  retribution, 
which  regulate  all  the  conceptions  we  form  of  our  relations  to 
all  other  moral  beings,  and  constitute  morality  ; — such  the  ideas 
of  order,  of  proportion,  and  of  harmony,  which  preside  in  the 
realms  of  art,  and  constitute  the  beau-ideal  of  esthetics  ; — such 
the  ideas  of  God,  the  soul,  and  immortality,  which  rule  in  the 
domains  of  religion,  and  determine  man  a  religious  being. 
These  constitute  the  identity  of  human  nature  under  all  cir- 
cumstances ;  these  characterize  humanity  in  all  conditions. 
Like  permanent  germs  in  vegetable  life,  always  producing  the 
same  species  of  plants ;  or  like  fundamental  types  in  the  ani- 
mal kingdom,  securing  the  same  homologous  structures  in  all 
classes  and  orders ;  so  these  fundamental  ideas  in  human  na- 
ture constitute  its  sameness  and  unity,  under  all  the  varying 
conditions  of  life  and  society.  The  acorn  must  produce  an 
oak,  and  nothing  else.  The  grain  of  wheat  must  always  pro- 
duce its  kind.  The  offspring  of  man  must  always  bear  his 
image,  and  always  exhibit  the  same  fundamental  characteris- 
tics, not  only  in  his  corporeal  nature,  but  also  in  his  mental 
constitution. 


GREEK  PHILOSOFIIY.  19 

But  the  germination  of  every  seed  depends  on  conditions  ab 
exira^  and  all  germs  are  modified,  in  their  development,  by  ge- 
ographical and  climatal  surroundings.  The  development  of 
the  acorn  into  a  mature  and  perfect  oak  greatly  depends  on  the 
exterior  conditions  of  soil,  and  moisture,  light,  and  heat.  By 
these  it  may  be  rendered  luxuriant  in  its  growth,  or  it  may  be 
stunted  in  its  growth.  It  may  barely  exist  under  one  class  of 
conditions,  or  it  may  perish  under  another.  The  Brassica  ole- 
racea,  in  its  native  habitat  on  the  shore  of  the  sea,  is  a  bitter 
plant  with  wavy  sea-green  leaves ;  in  the  cultivated  garden  it 
is  the  cauliflower.  The  single  rose,  under  altered  conditions, 
becomes  a  double  rose ;  and  creepers  rear  their  stalks  and 
stand  erect.  Plants,  which  in  a  cold  climate  are  annuals,  be- 
come perennial  when  transported  to  the  torrid  zone.^  And  so 
human  nature,  fundamentally  the  same  under  all  circumstances, 
may  be  greatly  modified,  both  physically  and  mentally,  by  geo- 
graphical, social,  and  political  conditions.  The  corporeal  na- 
ture of  man — his  complexion,  his  physiognomy,  his  stature ; 
the  intellectual  nature  of  man — his  religious,  ethical,  and  es- 
thetical  ideas  are  all  modified  by  his  surroundings.  These 
modifications,  of  which  all  men  dwelling  in  the  same  geograph- 
ical regions,  and  under  the  same  social  and  political  institu- 
tions, partake,  constitute  the  individuality  of  nations.  Thus, 
whilst  there  is  a  fundamental  basis  of  unity  in  the  corporeal 
and  spiritual  nature  of  man,  the  causes  of  diversity  are  to  be 
sought  in  the  circumstances  in  which  tribes  and  nations  are 
placed  in  the  overruling  providence  of  God. 

The  power  which  man  exerts  over  material  conditions,  by 
virtue  of  his  intelligence  and  freedom,  is  also  an  important  ele- 
ment which,  in  these  studies,  we  should  not  depreciate  or  ig- 
nore. We  must  accept,  with  all  its  consequences,  the  dictum 
of  universal  consciousness  that  man  is  free.  He  is  not  abso- 
lutely subject  to,  and  moulded  by  nature.  He  has  the  power 
to  control  the  circumstances  by  which  he  is  surrounded — to 

^  See  Carpenter's  "  Compar.  Physiology,"  p.  625  ;  Lyell's  "  Principles  of 
Geology,"  pp.  588,  589. 


20  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

originate  new  social  and  physical  conditions — to  determine  his 
own  individual  and  responsible  character — and  he  can  wield  a 
mighty  influence  over  the  character  of  his  fellow-men.  Indi- 
vidual men,  as  Lycurgus,  Solon,  Pericles,  Alexander,  Csesar, 
and  Napoleon  have  left  the  impress  of  their  own  mind  and 
character  upon  the  political  institutions  of  nations,  and,  in  an 
indirect  manner,  upon  the  character  of  succeeding  generations 
of  men.  Homer,  Plato,  Cicero,  Bacon,  Kant,  Locke,  Newton, 
Shakspeare,  Milton  have  left  a  deep  and  permanent  impres- 
sion upon  the  forms  of  thought  and  speech,  the  language  and 
literature,  the  science  and  philosophy  of  nations.  And  inas- 
much as  a  nation  is  the  aggregate  of  individual  beings  endowed 
with  spontaneity  and  freedom,  we  must  grant  that  exterior  con- 
ditions are  not  omnipotent  in  the  formation  of  national  char- 
acter. Still  the  free  causality  of  man  is  exercised  within  a  nar- 
row field.  "  There  is  a  strictly  necessitative  limitation  drawing 
an  impassable  boundary-line  around  the  area  of  volitional  free- 
dom." The  human  will  "however  subjectively  free"  is  often 
"  objectively  unfree  ;"  thus  a  large  "  uniformity  of  volitions  "  is 
the  natural  consequence.^  The  child  born  in  the  heart  of  Chi- 
na, whilst  he  may,  in  his  personal  freedom,  develop  such  traits 
of  character  as  constitute  his  individuality,  must  necessarily  be 
conformed  in  his  language,  habits,  modes  of  thought,  and  re- 
ligious sentiments  to  the  spirit  of  his  country  and  age.  We  no 
more  expect  a  development  of  Christian  thought  and  character 
in  the  centre  of  Africa,  unvisited  by  Christian  teaching,  than 
we  expect  to  find  the  climate  and  vegetation  of  New  England. 
And  we  no  more  expect  that  a  New  England  child  shall  be  a 
Mohammedan,  a  Parsee,  or  a  Buddhist,  than  that  he  shall  have 
an  Oriental  physiognomy,  and  speak  an  Oriental  language. 
Indeed  it  is  impossible  for  a  man  to  exist  in  human  society 
without  partaking  in  the  spirit  and  manners  of  his  country  and 
his  age.  Thus  all  the  individuals  of  a  nation  represent,  in  a 
greater  or  less  degree,  the  spirit  of  the  nation.  They  who 
do  this  most  perfectly  are  the  great  men  of  that  nation,  because 
'  See  Dr.  Wheedon's  "  Freedom  of  the  Will,"  pp.  164, 165. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  21 

they  are  at  once  both  the  product  and  the  impersonation  of 
their  country  and  their  age.  "  We  allow  ourselves  to  think  of 
Shakspeare,  or  of  Raphael,  or  of  Phidias  as  having  accom- 
plished their  work  by  the  power  of  their  individual  genius,  but 
greatness  like  theirs  is  never  more  than  the  highest  degree  of 
perfection  which  prevails  widely  around  it,  and  forms  the  en- 
environment  in  which  it  grows.  No  such  single  mind  in  sin- 
gle contact  with  the  facts  of  nature  could  have  created  a  Pal- 
las, a  Madonna,  or  a  Lear ;  such  vast  conceptions  are  the 
growth  of  ages,  the  creation  of  a  nation's  spirit ;  and  the  artist 
and  poet,  filled  full  with  the  power  of  that  spirit,  but  gave  it 
form,  and  nothing  but  form.  Nor  would  the  form  itself  have 
been  attained  by  any  isolated  talent.  No  genius  can  dispense 
with  experience ....  Noble  conceptions  already  existing,  and  a 
noble  school  of  execution  which  will  launch  mind  and  hand 
upon  their  true  courses,  are  indispensable  to  transcendent  ex- 
cellence. Shakspeare's  plays  were  as  much  the  offspring  of 
the  long  generations  who  had  pioneered  the  road  for  him,  as 
the  discoveries  of  Newton  were  the  offspring  of  those  of  Coper- 
nicus."' The  principles  here  enounced  apply  with  equal  force 
to  philosophers  and  men  of  science.  The  philosophy  of  Plato 
was  but  the  ripened  fruit  of  the  pregnant  thoughts  and  seminal 
utterances  of  his  predecessors, — Socrates,  Anaxagoras,  and 
Pythagoras ;  whilst  all  of  them  do  but  represent  the  general 
tendency  and  spirit  of  their  country  and  their  times.  The 
principles  of  Lord  Bacon's  "  Instauratio  Magna  "  were  incipient 
in  the  "  Opus  Majus  "  of  Roger  Bacon,  the  Franciscan  friar. 
The  sixteenth  century  matured  the  thought  of  the  thirteenth 
century.  The  inductive  method  in  scientific  inquiry  was  imma- 
nent in  the  British  mind,  and  the  latter  Bacon  only  gave  to  it 
a  permanent  form.  It  is  true  that  great  men  have  occasionally 
appeared  on  the  stage  of  history  who,  like  the  reformers  Luther 
and  Wesley,  have  seemed  to  be  in  conflict  with  the  prevailing 
spirit  of  their  age  and  nation,  but  these  men  were  the  creations 
of  a  providence — that  providence  which,  from  time  to  time,  has 
'  Froude,  "  Hist,  of  England,"  pp.  73,  74, 


22  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

supematurally  interposed  in  the  moral  history  of  our  race  by 
corrective  and  remedial  measures.  These  men  were  inspired 
and  led  by  a  spirit  which  descended  from  on  high.  And  yet 
even  they  had  their  precursors  and  harbingers.  Wyckliffe  and 
John  Huss,  and  Jerome  of  Prague  are  but  the  representatives 
of  numbers  whose  names  do  not  grace  the  historic  page,  who 
pioneered  the  way  for  Luther  and  the  Reformation.  And  no 
one  can  read  the  history  of  that  great  movement  of  the  six- 
teenth century  without  being  persuaded  there  were  thousands 
of  Luther's  predecessors  and  contemporaries  who,  like  Stau- 
pitz  and  Erasmus,  lamented  the  corruptions  of  the  Church  of 
Rome,  and  only  needed  the  heroic  courage  of  Luther  to  make 
them  reformers  also.  Whilst,  therefore,  we  recognize  a  free 
causal  power  in  man,  by  which  he  determines  his  individual 
and  responsible  character,  we  are  compelled  to  recognize  the 
general  law,  that  national  character  is  mainly  the  result  of  those 
geographical  and  ethological,  and  political  and  religious  con- 
ditions in  which  the  nations  have  been  placed  in  the  providence 
of  God. 

Nations,  like  persons,  have  an  Individuality.  They  present 
certain  characteristic  marks  which  constitute  their  proper  iden- 
tity, and  separate  them  from  the  surrounding  nations  of  the 
earth ;  such,  for  example,  as  complexion,  physiognomy,  lan- 
guage, pursuits,  customs,  institutions,  sentiments,  ideas.  The 
individuality  of  a  nation  is  determined  mainly  from  without^  and 
not,  like  human  individuality,  from  within.  The  laws  of  a 
man's  personal  character  have  their  home  in  the  soul ;  and  the 
peculiarities  and  habits,  and  that  conduct  of  life,  which  consti- 
tute his  responsible  character  are,  in  a  great  degree,  the  conse- 
quence of  his  own  free  choice.  But  dwelling,  as  he  does,  in  so- 
ciety, where  he  is  continually  influenced  by  the  example  and 
opinions  of  his  neighbors  \  subject,  as  he  is,  to  the  ceaseless 
influence  of  climate,  scenery,  and  other  terrestrial  conditions, 
the  characteristics  which  result  from  these  relations,  and  which 
are  common  to  all  who  dwell  in  the  same  regions,  and  under 
the  same  institutions,  constitute  a  national  individuality.     In- 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHT.  23 

dividual  character  is  variable  under  the  same  general  con- 
ditions, national  character  is  uniforfn,  because  it  results  from 
causes  which  operate  alike  upon  all  individuals. 

Now,  that  man's  complexion,  his  pursuits,  his  habits,  his 
ideas  are  greatly  modified  by  his  geographical  surroundings,  is 
the  most  obvious  of  truths.  No  one  doubts  that  the  complex- 
ion of  man  is  greatly  affected  by  climatic  conditions.  The  ap- 
pearance, habits,  pursuits  of  the  man  who  lives  within  the  trop- 
ics must,  necessarily,  differ  from  those  of  the  man  who  dwells 
within  the  temperate  zone.  No  one  expects  that  the  dweller 
on  the  mountain  will  have  the  same  characteristics  as  the  man 
who  resides  on  the  plains  j  or  that  he  whose  home  is  in  the  in- 
terior of  a  continent  will  have  the  same  habits  as  the  man 
whose  home  is  on  the  islands  of  the  sea.  The  denizen  of  the 
primeval  forest  will  most  naturally  become  a  huntsman.  The 
dweller  on  the  extended  plain,  or  fertile  mountain  slope,  will 
lead  a  pastoral,  or  an  agricultural  life.  Those  who  live  on  the 
margin  of  great  rivers,  or  the  borders  of  the  sea,  will  "  do  busi- 
ness on  the  great  waters."  Commerce  and  navigation  will  be 
their  chief  pursuits.  The  people  whose  home  is  on  the  margin 
of  the  lake,  or  bay,  or  inland  sea,  or  the  thickly  studded  archi- 
pelago, are  mostly  fishermen.  And  then  it  is  a  no  less  obvi- 
ous truth  that  men's  pursuits  exert  a  moulding  influence  on 
their  habits,  their  forms  of  speech,  their  sentiments,  and  their 
ideas.  Let  any  one  take  pains  to  observe  the  peculiarities 
which  characterize  the  huntsman,  the  shepherd,  the  agricultur- 
ist, or  the  fisherman,  and  he  will  be  convinced  that  their  occu- 
pations stamp  the  whole  of  their  thoughts  and  feelings  ;  color 
all  their  conceptions  of  things  outside  their  own  peculiar  field  ; 
direct  their  simple  philosophy  of  life  ;  and  give  a  tone,  even,  to 
their  religious  emotions. 

The  general  aspects  of  nature,  the  climate  and  the  scenery, 
exert  an  appreciable  and  an  acknowledged  influence  on  the 
mefital  characteristics  of  a  people.  The  sprightliness  and  vi- 
vacity t)f  the  Frank,  the  impetuosity  of  the  Arab,  the  immobility 
of  the  Russ,  the  rugged  sternness  of  the  Scot,  the  repose  and 


24  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

dreaminess  of  the  Hindoo  are  largely  due  to  the  country  in 
which  they  dv/ell,  the  air  they  breathe,  the  food  they  eat,  and 
the  landscapes  and  skies  they  daily  look  upon.  The  nomadic 
Arab  is  not  only  indebted  to  the  country  in  which  he  dwells  for 
his  habit  of  hunting  for  daily  food,  but  for  that  love  of  a  free, 
untrammelled  life,  and  for  those  soaring  dreams  of  fancy  in 
which  he  so  ardently  delights.  Not  only  is  the  Swiss  deter- 
mined by  the  peculiarities  of  his  geographical  position  to  lead 
a  pastoral  life,  but  the  climate,  and  mountain  scenery,  and 
bracing  atmosphere  inspire  him  with  the  love  of  liberty.  The 
reserved  and  meditative  Hindoo,  accustomed  to  the  profuse 
luxuriance  of  nature,  borrows  the  fantastic  ideas  of  his  mythol- 
ogy from  plants,  and  flowers,  and  trees.  The  vastness  and  in- 
finite diversity  of  nature,  the  colossal  magnitude  of  all  the 
forms  of  animal  and  vegetable  life,  the  broad  and  massive  fea- 
tures of  the  landscape,  the  aspects  of  beauty  and  of  terror  which 
surround  him,  and  daily  pour  their  silent  influences  upon  his 
soul,  give  vividness,  grotesqueness,  even,  to  his  imagination, 
and  repress  his  active  powers.  His  mental  character  bears  a 
peculiar  and  obvious  relation  to  his  geographical  surroundings.^ 
The  influence  of  external  nature  on.  the  imagination- — the 
creative  faculty  in  man — is  obvious  and  remarkable.  It  reveals 
itself  in  all  the  productions  of  man  —  his  architecture,  his 
sculpture,  his  painting,  and  his  poetry.  Oriental  architecture 
is  characterized  by  the  boldness  and  massiveness  of  all  its 
parts,  and  the  monotonous  uniformity  of  all  its  features.  This 
is  but  the  expression,  in  a  material  form,  of  that  shadowy  feel- 
ing of  infinity,  and  unity,  and  immobility  which  an  unbroken 
continent  of  vast  deserts  and  continuous  lofty  mountain  chains 
would  naturally  inspire.  The  simple  grandeur  and  perfect  har- 
mony and  graceful  blending  of  light  and  shade  so  peculiar  to 
Grecian  architecture  are  the  product  of  a  country  whose  area 
is  diversified  by  the  harmonious  blending  of  land  and  water, 
mountain  and  plain,  all  bathed  in  purest  light,  and  canopied 
with  skies  of  serenest  blue.  And  they  are  also  the  product  of 
^  Ritter,  "  Geograph.  Studies,"  p.  287. 


GREEK  rniLOSOPHY.  25 

a  country  where  man  is  released  from  the  imprisonment  within 
the  magic  circle  of  surrounding  nature,  and  made  conscious  of 
his  power  and  freedom.  In  Grecian  architecture,  therefore, 
there  is  less  of  the  massiveness  and  immobility  of  nature,  and 
more  of  the  grace  and  dignity  of  man.  It  adds  to  the  idea  of 
permanence  a  vital  expression.  "  The  Doric  column,"  says 
Vitnivius,  "has  the  proportion,  strength,  and  beauty  of  man." 
The  Gothic  architecture  had  its  birthplace  among  a  people  who 
had  lived  and  worshipped  for  ages  amidst  the  dense  forests  of 
the  north,  and  was  no  doubt  an  imitation  of  the  interlacing  of 
the  overshadowing  trees.  The  clustered  shaft,  and  lancet 
arch,  and  flowing  tracery,  reflect  the  impression  which  the  sur- 
rounding scenery  had  woven  into  the  texture  of  the  Teutonic 
mind. 

The  history  of  painting  and  of  sculpture  will  also  show  that 
the  varied  "  styles  of  art  "  are  largely  the  result  of  the  aspects 
which  external  nature  presented  to  the  eye  of  man.  Oriental 
sculpture,  like  its  architecture,  was  characterized  by  massive- 
ness of  form  and  tranquillity  of  expression ;  and  its  painting 
was,  at  best,  but  colored  sculpture.  The  most  striking  objects 
are  colossal  figures,  in  which  the  human  form  is  strangely  com- 
bined with  the  brute,  as  in  the  winged  bulls  of  Nineveh  and 
the  sphinxes  of  Egypt.  Man  is  regarded  simply  as  a  part  of 
nature,  he  does  not  rise  above  the  plane  of  animal  life.  The 
soul  has  its  immortality  only  in  an  eternal  metempsychosis — a 
cycle  of  life  which  sweeps  through  all  the  brute  creation.  But 
in  Grecian  sculpture  we  have  less  of  nature,  more  of  man  ;  less 
of  massiveness,  more  of  grace  and  elegance ;  less  repose,  and 
more  of  action.  Now  the  connection  between  these  styles  of 
art,  and  the  countries  in  which  they  were  developed,  is  at  once 
suggested  to  the  thoughtful  mind. 

And  then,  finally,  the  literature  of  a  people  equally  reveals 
the  impress  of  surrounding  cosmical  conditions.  "  The  poems 
of  Ossian  are  but  the  echo  of  the  wild,  rough,  cloudy  highlands 
of  his  Scottish  home."  The  forest  songs  of  the  wild  Indian, 
the  negro's  plaintive  melodies  in  the  rice-fields  of  Carolina,  the 


26  CHMISTIANITY  AND 

refrains  in  which  the  hunter  of  Kamtchatka  relates  his  adven- 
tures with  the  polar  bear,  and  in  which  the  South  Sea  Islander 
celebrates  his  feats  and  dangers  on  the  deep,  all  betoken  the 
influence  which  the  scenes  of  daily  life  exert  upon  the  thoughts 
and  feelings  of  our  race.  "  To  what  an  extent  nature  can  ex- 
press herself  in,  and  modify  the  culture  of  the  individual,  as 
well  as  of  an  entire  people,  can  be  seen  on  Ionian  soil  in  the 
verse  of  Homer,  which,  called  forth  under  the  most  favorable 
sky,  and  on  the  most  luxuriant  shore  of  the  Grecian  archipel- 
ago, not  only  charms  us  to-day,  but  bearing  this  impress,  has 
determined  what  shall  be  the  classic  form  throughout  all  coming 
time.'" 

In  seeking,  therefore,  to  determine  correctly  what  are  the 
characteristics  of  a  nation,  we  must  endeavor  to  trace  how  far 
the  physical  constitution  of  that  people,  their  temperament, 
their  habits,  their  sentiments,  and  their  ideas  have  been  formed, 
or  modified,  under  the  surrounding  geographical  conditions, 
which,  as  we  have  seen,  greatly  determine  a  nation's  individ- 
uality. Guided  by  these  lights,  let  us  approach  the  study  of 
"  the  meft  of  Athens  J^ 

Attica^  of  which  Athens  was  the  capital,  and  whose  entire 
populations  were  called  "Athenians,"  was  the  most  important 
of  all  the  Hellenic  states.  It  is  a  triangular  peninsula,  the 
base  of  which  is  defined  by  the  high  mountain  ranges  of  Cithag- 

^  See  Ritter,  pp.  288,  289.  Poetic  art  has  unquestionably  its  geographical 
distributions  like  the  fauna  and  flora  of  the  globe.  "  If  you  love  the  images, 
not  merely  of  a  rich,  but  of  a  luxuriant  fancy  ;  if  you  are  pleased  with  the 
most  daring  flights ;  if  you  would  see  a  poetic  creation  full  of  wonders,  then 
turn  your  eye  to  the  poetry  of  the  orient^  where  all  forms  appear  in  purple  ; 
where  each  flower  glows  like  the  morning  ray  resting  on  the  earth.  But  if, 
on  the  contrary,  you  prefer  depth  of  thought,  and  earnestness  of  reflection  ; 
if  you  delight  in  the  colossal,  yet  pale  forms,  which  float  about  in  mist,  and 
whisper  of  the  mysteries  of  the  spirit-land,  and  of  the  vanity  of  all  things,  ex- 
cept honor,  then  I  must  point  you  to  the  hoary  north Or  if  you  sympathize 

with  that  deep  feeling,  that  longing  of  the  soul,  which  does  not  linger  on  the 
earth,  but  evermore  looks  up  to  the  azure  tent  of  the  stars,  where  happiness 
dwells,  where  the  unquiet  of  the  beating  heart  is  still,  then  you  must  resort  to 
the  romantic  poetry  of  the  west.^''  —  "  Study  of  Greek  Literature^''''  Bishop 
Esaias  Tegner,  p.  38. 


GREEK  PEILOSOFMT. 


27 


ron  and  Parnes,  whilst  the  two  other  sides  are  washed  by  the 
sea,  having  their  vertex  at  the  promontory  of  Sunium,  or  Cape 
Colonna.  The  prolongation  of  the  south-western  line  towards 
the  north  until  it  reaches  the  base  at  the  foot  of  Mount  Cithae- 
ron,  served  as  the  line  of  demarkation  between  the  Athenian 
territory  and  the  State  of  Megara.  Thus  Attica  may  be  gen- 
erally described  as  bounded  on  the  north-east  by  the  channel 
of  the  Negropont ;  on  the  south-west  by  the  gulf  of  ^gina  and 
part  of  Megara ;  and  on  the  north-west  by  the  territory  which 
formed  the  ancient  Bceotia,  including  within  its  limits  an  area 
of  about  750  miles.* 

Hills  of  inferior  elevation  connect  the  mountain  ranges  of 
Cithieron  and  Parnes  with  the  mountainous  surface  of  the  south- 
east of  the  peninsula.  These  hills,  commencing  with  the  prom- 
ontory of  Sunium  itself,  which  forms  the  vertex  of  the  triangle, 
rise  gradually  on  the  south-east  to  the  round  summit  of  Hymet- 
tus,  and  onward  to  the  higher  peak  of  Pentelicus,  near  Mara- 
thon, on  the  east.  The  rest  of  Attica  is  all  a  plain,  one  reach 
of  which  comes  down  to  the  sea  on  the  south,  at  the  very  base 
of  Hymettus.  Here,  about  five  miles  from  the  shore,  an  abrupt 
rock  rises  from  the  plain,  about  200  feet  high,  bordered  on  the 
south  by  lower  eminences.  That  rock  is  the  Acropolis.  Those 
lower  eminences  are  the  Areopagus,  the  Pmyx,  and  the  Muse- 
um. In  the  valley  formed  by  these  four  hills  we  have  the  Ago- 
ra, and  the  varied  undulations  of  these  hills  determine  the  fea- 
tures of  the  city  of  Athens.'* 

Nearly  all  writers  on  the  topography  of  Athens  derive  their 
materials  from  Pausanias,  who  visited  the  city  in  the  early  part 
of  the  second  century,  and  whose  "  Itinerary  of  Greece  "  is 
still  extant.^  He  entered  the  city  by  the  Peiraic  gate,  the  same 
gate  at  which  Paul  entered  some  sixty  years  before.  We  shall 
place  ourselves  under  his  guidance,  and,  so  far  as  we  are  able, 

'  See  art.  "  Attica,"  Encyc.  Brit. 

'^  See  Conybeare  amd  Howson's  "  Life  and  Epistles  of  St.  Paul,"  vol.  L 
p.  346. 

^  The  account  here  given  of  the  topography  of  Athens  is  derived  mainly 
from  the  article  on  "  Athens  "  in  the  Encyc.  Brit, 


28  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

follow  the  same  course,  supplying  some  omissions,  as  we  go 
along,  from  other  sources.  On  entering  the  city,  the  first  build- 
ing which  arrested  the  attention  of  Pausanias  was  the  Pompei- 
um,  so  called  because  it  was  the  depository  of  the  sacred  ves- 
sels, and  also  of  the  garments  used  in  the  annual  procession 
in  honor  of  Athena  (Minerva),  the  tutelary  deity  of  Athens, 
from  whom  the  city  derived  its  name.  Near  this  edifice  stood 
a  temple  of  Demeter  (Ceres),  containing  statues  of  that  goddess, 
of  her  daughter  Persephone,  and  of  lacchus,  all  executed  by 
Praxiteles ;  and  beyond  were  several  porticoes  leading  from 
the  city  gates  to  the  outer  Ceramicus,  while  the  intervening 
space  was  occupied  by  various  temples,  the  Gymnasium  of 
Hermes,  and  the  house  of  Polytion,  the  most  magnificent  pri- 
vate residence  in  Athens. 

There  were  two  places  in  Athens  known  by  the  name  of 
Ceramicus,  one  without  the  walls,  forming  part  of  the  suburbs  ; 
and  the  other  within  the  walls,  embracing  a  very  important 
section  of  the  city.  The  outer  Ceramicus  was  covered  with 
the  sepulchres  of  the  Athenians  who  had  been  slain  in  battle, 
and  buried  at  the  public  expense  ;  it  communicated  with  the 
inner  Ceramicus  by  the  gate  Dipylum.  The  Ceramicus  within 
the  city  probably  included  the  Agora,  the  Stoa  Basileios,  and 
the  Stoa  Poecile,  besides  various  other  temples  and  public 
buildings. 

.Having  fairly  passed  the  city  gates,  a  long  street  is  before 
us  with  a  colonnade  or  cloister  on  either  hand ;  and  at  the  end 
of  this  street,  by  turning  to  the  left,  we  might  go  through  the 
whole  Ceramicus  to  the  open  country,  and  the  groves  of  the 
Academy.  But  we  turn  to  the  right,  and  enter  the  Agora, — 
"  the  market-place,"  as  it  is  called  in  the  English  translation  of 
the  sacred  narrative. 

We  are  not,  however,  to  conceive  of  the  market-place  at 
Athens  as  bearing  any  resemblance  to  the  bare,  undecorated 
spaces  appropriated  to  business  in  our  modern  towns ;  but 
rather  as  a  magnificent  public  square,  closed  in  by  grand  his- 
toric buildings,  of  the  highest  style  of  architecture ;  planted 


GREEK  PHILOSOPUY.  29 

with  palm-trees  in  graceful  distribution,  and  adorned  with 
statues  of  the  great  men  of  Athens  and  the  deified  heroes  of 
her  mythology,  from  the  hands  of  the  immortal  masters  of  the 
plastic  art.  This  "  market-place  "  was  the  great  centre  of  the 
public  life  of  the  Athenians, — the  meeting-place  of  poets,  ora- 
tors, statesmen,  warriors,  and  philosophers, — a  grand  resort  for 
leisure,  for  conversation,  for  business,  and  for  news.  Standing 
in  the  Agora,  and  looking  towards  the  south,  is  the  Museum^ 
so  called  because  it  was  believed  that  Musceus^  the  father  of 
poetry,  was  buried  there.  Towards  the  north-west  is  the  Pnyx^ 
a  sloping  hill,  partially  levelled  into  an  open  area  for  political 
assemblies.  To  the  north  is  seen  the  craggy  eminence  of  the 
Areopagus^  and  on  the  north-east  is  the  Acropolis  towering  high 
above  the  scene,  "  the  crown  and  glory  of  the  whole." 

The  most  important  buildings  of  the  Agora  are  the  Porti- 
coes or  cloisters,  the  most  remarkable  of  which  are  the  Stoa 
Basileios,  or  Portico  of  the  king ;  the  Stoa  Eleutherius,  or  Por- 
tico of  the  Jupiter  of  Freedom  ;  and  the  Stoa  Pcecile,  or  Paint- 
ed Porch.  These  Porticoes  were  covered  walks,  the  roof  being 
supported  by  columns,  at  least  on  one  side,  and  by  solid  ma- 
sonry on  the  other.  Such  shaded  walks  are  almost  indispen- 
sable in  the  south  of  Europe,  where  the  people  live  much  in  the 
open  air,  and  they  afford  a  grateful  protection  from  the  heat  of 
the  sun,  as  well  as  a  shelter  from  the  rain.  Seats  were  also 
provided  where  the  loungers  might  rest,  and  the  philosophers 
and  rhetoricians  sit  down  for  intellectual  conversation.  The 
"  Stoic  "  school  of  philosophy  derived  its  name  from  the  cir- 
cumstance that  its  founder,  Zeno,  used  to  meet  and  converse 
with  his  disciples  under  one  of  these  porticoes, — the  Stoa  Pce- 
cile. These  porticoes  were  not  only  built  in  the  most  magnif- 
icent style  of  architecture,  but  adorned  with  paintings  and 
statuary  by  the  best  masters.  On  the  roof  of  the  Stoa  Basileios 
were  statues  of  Theseus  and  the  Day.  In  front  of  the  Stoa 
Eleutherius  was  placed  the  divinity  to  whom  it  was  dedicated ; 
and  within  were  allegorical  paintings,  celebrating  the  rise  of 
"the  fierce  democracy."     The  Stoa  Pcecile  derived  its  name 


30  CHEISTIANITY  AND 

from  the  celebrated  paintings  which  adorned  its  walls,  and 
which  were  almost  exclusively  devoted  to  the  representation  of 
national  subjects,  as  the  contest  of  Theseus  with  the  Amazons, 
the  more  glorious  struggle  at  Marathon,  and  the  other  achieve- 
ments of  the  Athenians  ;  here  also  were  suspended  the  shields 
of  the  Scionaeans  of  Thrace,  together  with  those  of  the  Lace- 
demonians, taken  at  the  island  of  Sphacteria. 

It  is  beyond  our  purpose  to  describe  all  the  public  edifices, — 
the  temples,  gymnasia,  and  theatres  which  crowd  the  Ceramic 
area,  and  that  portion  of  the  city  lying  to  the  west  and  south 
of  the  Acropolis.  Our  object  is,  if  possible,  to  convey  to  the 
reader  some  conception  of  the  ancient  splendor  and  magnifi- 
cence of  Athens  ;  to  revive  the  scenes  amidst  which  the  Athe- 
nians daily  moved,  and  which  may  be  presumed  to  have  exerted 
a  powerful  influence  upon  the  manners,  the  taste,  the  habits  of 
thought,  and  the  entire  character  of  the  Athenian  people.  To  . 
secure  this  object  we  need  only  direct  attention  to  the  Acrop- 
olis, which  was  crowded  with  the  monuments  of  Athenian 
glor}?-,  and  exhibited  an  amazing  concentration  of  all  that 
was  most  perfect  in  art,  unsurpassed  in  excellence,  and  unrival- 
led in  richness  and  splendor.  It  was  "  the  peerless  gem  of 
Greece,  the  glory  and  pride  of  art,  the  wonder  and  envy  of  the 
world." 

The  western  side  of  the  Acropolis,  which  furnished  the  only 
access  to  the  summit  of  the  hill,  was  about  i68  feet  in  breadth  ; 
an  opening  so  narrow  that,  to  the  artists  of  Pericles,  it  appeared 
practicable  to  fill  up  the  space  with  a  single  building,  which,  in 
serving  the  purpose  of  a  gateway  to  the  Acropolis,  should  also 
contribute  to  adorn,  as  well  as  fortify  the  citadel.  This  work, 
the  greatest  achievement  of  civil  architecture  in  Athens,  which 
rivalled  the  Parthenon  in  felicity  of  execution,  and  surpassed  it 
in  boldness  and  originality  of  design,  consisted  of  a  grand  cen- 
tral colonnade  closed  by  projecting  wings.  This  incomparable 
edifice,  built  of  Pentelic  marble,  received  the  name  of  Propylaea 
from  its  forming  the  vestibule  to  the  five-fold  gates  by  which  the 
citadel  was  entered.     In  front  of  the  right  wing  there  stood  a 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


31 


small  Ionic  temple  of  pure  white  marble,  dedicated  to  Nike 
Apteros  (Wingless  Victory). 

A  gigantic  flight  of  steps  conducted  from  the  five-fold  gates 
to  the  platform  of  the  Acropolis,  which  was,  in  fact,  one  vast 
composition  of  architecture  and  sculpture  dedicated  to  the  na- 
tional glory.  Here  stood  the  Parthenon,  or  temple  of  the  Vir- 
gin Goddess,  the  glorious  temple  which  rose  in  the  proudest 
period  of  Athenian  history  to  the  honor  of  Minerva,  and  which 
ages  have  only  partially  effaced.  This  magnificent  temple,  "  by 
its  united  excellences  of  materials,  design,  and  decoration,  in- 
ternal as  well  as  external,  has  been  universally  considered  the 
most  perfect  which  human  genius  ever  planned  and  executed. 
Its  dimensions  were  sufficiently  large  to  produce  an  impression 
of  grandeur  and  sublimity,  which  was  not  disturbed  by  any  ob- 
trusive subdivision  of  parts  ;  and,  whether  viewed  at  a  small  or 
greater  distance,  there  was  nothing  to  divert  the  mind  of  the 
spectator  from  contemplating  the  unity  as  well  as  majesty  of 
mass  and  outline  ;  circumstances  which  form  the  first  and  most 
remarkable  characteristic  of  every  Greek  temple  erected  during 
the  purer  ages  of  Grecian  taste  and  genius."* 

It  would  be  impossible  to  convey  any  just  and  adequate 
conception  of  the  artistic  decorations  of  this  wonderful  edifice. 
The  two  pediments  of  the  temple  were  decorated  with  magnifi- 
cent compositions  of  statuary,  each  consisting  of  about  twenty 
entire  figures  of  colossal  size  ;  the  one  on  the  western  pediment 
representing  the  birth  of  Minerva,  and  the  other,  on  the  eastern 
pediment,  the  contest  between  that  goddess  and  Neptune  for 
the  possession  of  Attica.  Under  the  outer  cornice  were  ninety- 
two  groups,  raised  in  high  relief  from  tablets  about  four  feet 
square,  representing  the  victories  achieved  by  her  companions. 
Round  the  inner  frieze  was  presented  the  procession  of  the  Par- 
thenon on  the  grand  quinquennial  festival  of  the  Panathenaea. 
The  procession  is  represented  as  advancing  in  two  parallel  col- 
umns from  west  to  east ;  one  proceeding  along  the  northern, 
the  other  along  the  southern  side  of  the  temple ;  part  facing 
^  Leake's  "  Topography  of  Athens,"  p.  209  et  seq. 


32  CIIBISTIANITY  AND 

inward  after  turning  the  angle  of  the  eastern  front,  and  part 
meeting  towards  the  centre  of  that  front. 

The  statue  of  the  virgin  goddess,  the  work  of  Phidias,  stood 
in  the  eastern  chamber  of  the  cella,  and  was  composed  of  ivory 
and  gold.  It  had  but  one  rival  in  the  world,  the  Jupiter  Olym- 
pus of  the  same  famous  artist.  On  the  summit  or  apex  of  the 
helmet  was  placed  a  sphinx,  with  griffins  on  either  side.  The 
figure  of  the  goddess  was  represented  in  an  erect  martial  atti- 
tude, and  clothed  in  a  robe  reaching  to  the  feet.  On  the  breast 
was  a  head  of  Medusa,  wrought  in  ivory,  and  a  figure  of  Victory 
about  four  cubits  high.  The  goddess  held  a  spear  in  her  hand, 
and  an  aegis  lay  at  her  feet,  while  on  her  right,  and  near  the 
spear,  was  a  figure  of  a  serpent,  believed  to  represent  that  of 
Erichthonius. 

According  to  Pliny,  the  entire  height  of  the  statue  was  twen- 
ty-six cubits  (about  forty  feet),  and  the  artist,  Phidias,  had  in- 
geniously contrived  that  the  gold  with  which  the  statue  was  en- 
crusted might  be  removed  at  pleasure.  The  battle  of  the  Cen- 
taurs and  Lapithas  was  carved  upon  the  sandals  ;  the  battle  of 
the  Amazons  was  represented  on  the  aegis  which  lay  at  her  feet, 
and  on  the  pedestal  was  sculptured  the  birth  of  Pandora. 

The  temple  of  Erechtheus,  the  most  ancient  structure  in 
Athens,  stood  on  the  northern  side  of  the  Acropolis.  The 
statue  of  Zeus  Polieus  stood  between  the  Propylaea  and  the 
Parthenon.  The  brazen  colossus  of  Minerva,  cast  from  the 
spoils  of  Marathon,  appears  to  have  occupied  the  space  between 
the  Erechtheium  and  the  Propylaea,  near  the  Pelasgic  or  north- 
ern wall.  This  statue  of  the  tutelary  divinity  of  Athens  and 
Attica  rose  in  gigantic  proportions  above  all  the  buildings  of 
the  Acropolis,  the  flashing  of  whose  helmet  plumes  met  the 
sailor's  eye  as  he  approached  from  the  Sunian  promontory. 
And  the  remaining  space  of  the  wide  area  was  literally  crowd- 
ed with  statuary,  amongst  which  were  Theseus  contending  with 
the  Minotaur ;  Hercules  strangling  the  serpents  ;  the  Earth 
imploring  showers  from  Jupiter ;  and  Minerva  causing  the  olive 
to  sprout,  while  Neptune  raises  the  waves.     After  these  works 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  33 

of  art,  it  is  needless  to  speak  of  others.  It  may  be  sufficient  to 
state  that  Pausanias  mentions  by  name  towards  three  hundred 
remarkable  statues  v.-hich  adorned  this  part  of  the  city  even 
after  it  had  been  robbed  and  despoiled  by  its  several  conquer- 
ors. 

The  Areopagus,  or  hill  of  Ares  (Mars),  so  called,  it  is  said, 
in  consequence  of  that  god  having  been  the  first  person  tried 
there  for  the  crime  of  murder,  was,  beyond  all  doubt,  the  rocky 
height  which  is  separated  from  the  western  end  of  the  Acropo- 
lis by  a  hollow,  forming  a  communication  between  the  northern 
and  southern  divisions  of  the  city.  The  court  of  the  Areopagus 
was  simply  an  open  space  on  the  highest  summit  of  the  hill, 
the  judges  sitting  in  the  open  air,  on  rude  seats  of  stone,  hewn 
out  of  the  solid  rock.  Near  to  the  spot  on  which  the  court  was 
held  was  the  sanctuary  of  the  Furies,  the  avenging  deities  of 
Grecian  mythology,  whose  presence  gave  additional  solemnity 
to  the  scene.  The  place  and  the  court  were  regarded  by  the 
people  with  superstitious  reverence. 

This  completes  our  survey  of  the  principal  buildings,  m.onu- 
ments,  and  localities  within  the  city  of  Athens.  We  do  not  im- 
agine we  have  succeeded  in  conveying  any  adequate  idea  of  the 
ancient  splendor  and  glory  of  this  city,  which  was  not  only  the 
capital  of  Attica,  but  also 

"  The  eye  of  Greece,  mother  of  art  and  eloquence." 

We  trust,  however,  that  we  have  contributed  somewhat  towards 
awakening  in  the  reader's  mind  a  deeper  interest  in  these  classic 
scenes,  and  enabling  him  to  appreciate,  more  vividly,  the  allu- 
sions we  may  hereafter  make  to  them. 

The  mere  dry  recital  of  geographical  details,  and  topograph- 
ical notices  is,  however,  of  little  interest  in  itself,  and  by  itself. 
A  tract  of  country  derives  its  chief  interest  from  its  historic  as- 
sociations— its  immediate  relations  to  man.  The  events  which 
have  transpired  therein,  the  noble  or  ignoble  deeds,  the  grand 
achievements,  or  the  great  disasters  of  which  it  has  been  the 
theatre,  these  constitute  the  living  heart  of  its  geography.     Pal- 

3 


34  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

estine  has  been  rendered  forever  memorable,  not  by  any  re- 
markable peculiarities  in  its  climate  or  scenery,  but  by  the  fact 
that  it  was  the  home  of  God's  ancient  people — the  Hebrews ; 
and  still  more,  because  the  ardent  imagination  of  the  modern 
traveller  still  sees  upon  its  mountains  and  plains  the  lingering 
footprints  of  the  Son  of  God.  And  so  Attica  will  always  be 
regarded  as  a  classic  land,  because  it  was  the  theatre  of  the 
most  illustrious  period  of  ancient  history — t/ie  period  of  youth- 
ful vigor  in  the  life  of  humanity ,  when  viewed  as  a  grand  organic 
whole. 

Here  on  a  narrow  spot  of  less  superficies  than  the  little 
State  of  Rhode  Island  there  flourished  a  republic  which,  in  the 
grandeur  of  her  military  and  naval  achievements,  at  Marathon, 
Thermopylae,  Plataea,  and  Salamis,  in  the  sublime  creations  of 
her  painters,  sculptors,  and  architects,  and  the  unrivalled  pro- 
ductions of  her  poets,  orators,  and  philosophers,  has  left  a  lin- 
gering glory  on  the  historic  page,  which  twenty  centuries  have 
not  been  able  to  echpse  or  dim.  The  names  of  Solon  and 
Pericles ;  of  Socrates,  Plato,  and  Aristotle  ;  of  Isocrates  and 
Demosthenes  ;  of  Myron,  Phidias,  and  Praxiteles  ;  of  Herodo- 
tus, Xenophon,  and  Thucydides  ;  of  Sophocles  and  Euripides, 
have  shed  an  undying  lustre  on  Athens  and  Attica. 

How  much  of  this  universal  renown,  this  imperishable  glory 
attained  by  the  Athenian  people,  is  to  be  ascribed  to  their  geo- 
graphical position  and  surroundings,  and  to  the  elastic,  bracing 
air,  the  enchanting  scenery,  the  glorious  skies,  which  poured 
their  daily  inspiration  on  the  Athenian  mind,  is  a  problem  we 
may  scarcely  hope  to  solve. 

Of  this,  at  least,  we  may  be  sure,  that  all  these  geographical 
and  cosmical  conditions  were  ordained  by  God,  and  ordained, 
also,  for  some  noble  and  worthy  end.  That  God,  "  the  Father 
of  all  the  families  of  the  earth,"  cared  for  the  Athenian  people 
as  much  as  for  Jewish  and  Christian  nations,  we  can  not  doubt. 
That  they  were  the  subjects  of  a  Providence,  and  that,  in  God's 
great  plan  of  human  history,  they  had  an  important  part  to 
fulfill,  we  must  believe.     That  God  "  determined  the  time  of 


OF  THE 

UNIVERSIT 

each  nation's  existence,  and  fixed  the  geographicai^^nds  of 
its  habitation,"  is  affirmed  by  Paul.  And  that  the  specific  end 
for  which  the  nation  had  its  existence  was  fulfilled,  we  have  the 
fullest  confidence.  So  far,  therefore,  as  we  can  trace  the  relation 
that  subsists  between  the  geogr'aphical position  and  stirroimdings 
of  that  nation,  a7id  its  national  characteristics  and  actual  history^ 
so  far  are  we  able  to  solve  the  problem  of  its  destiny  ;  attd  by  so 
much  do  we  enlarge  our  comprehension  of  the  plait  of  God  in  the 
history  of  our  race. 

The  geographical  position  of  Greece  was  favorable  to  the 
freest  commercial  and  maritime  intercourse  with  the  great  his- 
toric nations — those  nations  most  advanced  in  science,  litera- 
ture, and  art.  Bounded  on  the  west  by  the  Adriatic  and  Ionian 
seas,  by  the  Mediterranean  on  the  south,  and  on  the  east  by  the 
^gean  Sea,  her  populations  enjoyed  a  free  intercommunication 
with  the  Egyptians,  Hebrews,  Persians,  Phoenicians,  Romans, 
and  Carthaginians.  This  peculiarity  in  the  geographical  po- 
sition of  the  Grecian  peninsula  could  not  fail  to  awaken  in  its 
people  a  taste  for  navigation,  and  lead  them  to  active  commer- 
cial intercourse  with  foreign  nations.^  The  boundless  oceans 
on  the  south  and  east,  the  almost  impassable  mountains  on  the 
west  and  north  of  Asia,  presented  insurmountable  obstacles  to 
commercial  intercourse.  But  the  extended  border-lands  and 
narrow  inland  seas  of  Southern  Europe  allured  man,  in  presence 
of  their  opposite  shores,  to  the  perpetual  exchange  of  his  pro- 
ductions. An  arm  of  the  sea  is  not  a  barrier,  but  rather  a  tie 
between  the  nations.  Appearing  to  separate,  it  in  reality  draws 
them  together  without  confounding  them.'*  On  such  a  theatre 
we  may  expect  that  commerce  will  be  developed  on  an  exten- 
sive scale.^     And,  along  with  commerce,  there  will  be  increased 

^  Humboldt's  "  Cosmos,"  vol.  ii.  p.  143. 

^  Cousin,  vol.  i.  pp.  169,  170. 

^  The  advantageous  situation  of  Britain  for  commerce,  and  the  nature  of 
the  climate  have  powerfully  contributed  to  the  perfection  of  industry  among 
her  population.  Had  she  occupied  a  central,  internal  station,  like  that  of 
Switzerland,  the  facilities  of  her  people  for  dealing  with  others  being  so 
much  the  less,  their  progress  would  have  been  comparatively  slow,  and,  in- 


36  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

activity  in  all  departments  of  productive  industry,  and  an  en- 
larged diffusion  of  knowledge.  "  Commerce,"  says  Ritter,  "  is 
the  great  mover  and  combiner  of  the  world's  activities."  And 
it  also  furnishes  the  channels  through  which  flow  the  world's 
ideas.  Commerce,  both  in  a  material  and  moral  point  of  view, 
is  the  life  of  nations.  Along  with  the  ivory  and  ebony,  the  fab- 
rics and  purple  dyes,  the  wines  and  spices  of  the  Syrian  mer- 
chant, there  flowed  into  Greece  the  science  of  numbers  and 
of  navigation,  and  the  art  of  alphabetical  writing  from  Phoenicia. 
Along  with  the  fine  wheat,  and  embroidered  linen,  and  riches 
of  the  farther  Indias  which  came  from  Egypt,  there  came,  also, 
into  Greece  some  knowledge  of  the  sciences  of  astronomy  and 
geometry,  of  architecture  and  mechanics,  of  medicine  and 
chemistry;  together  with  the  mystic  wisdom  of  the  distant 
Orient.  The  scattered  rays  of  light  which  gleamed  in  the  east- 
ern skies  were  thus  converged  in  Greece,  as  on  a  focal  point, 
to  be  rendered  more  brilliant  by  contact  with  the  powerful  Gre- 
cian intellect,  and  then  diffused  throughout  the  western  world. 
Thus  intercourse  with  surrounding  nations,  by  commerce  and 
travel,  contact  therewith  by  immigrations  and  colonizations, 
even  collisions  and  invasions  also,  became,  in  the  hands  of  a 
presiding  Providence,  the  means  of  diifusing  knowledge,  of 
quickening  and  enlarging  the  active  powers  of  man,  and  thus, 
ultimately,  of  a  higher  civilization. 

Then  further,  the  peculiar  configuration  of  Greece,  the  w^on- 
derful  complexity  of  its  coast-line,  its  peninsular  forms,  the  num- 
ber of  its  islands,  and  the  singular  distribution  of  its  mount- 
ains, all  seem  to  mark  it  as  the  theatre  of  activity,  of  move- 
ment, of  individuality,  and  of  freedom.      An  extensive  conti- 

stead  of  being  highly  improved,  their  manufactures  would  have  been  still  in 
infancy.  But  being  surrounded  on  all  sides  by  the  sea,  that  "  great  highway 
of  nations,"  they  have  been  able  to  maintain  an  intercourse  with  the  most  re- 
mote as  well  as  the  nearest  countries,  to  supply  them  on  the  easiest  terms 
with  their  manufactures,  and  to  profit  by  the  peculiar  products  and  capaci- 
ties of  production  possessed  by  other  nations.  To  the  geographical  position 
and  climate  of  Great  Britain,  her  people  are  mainly  indebted  for  their  posi- 
tion as  the  first  commercial  nation  on  earth. — See  art.  "  Manufactrues,"  p. 
277,  Encyc.  Brit. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


37 


nent,  unbroken  by  lakes  and  inland  seas,  as  Asia,  where  vast 
deserts  and  high  mountain  chains  separate  the  populations,  is 
the  seat  of  immobility.^  Commerce  is  limited  to  the  bare  ne- 
cessities of  life,  and  there  are  no  inducements  to  movement,  to 
travel,  and  to  enterprise.  There  are  no  conditions  prompting 
i^an  to  attempt  the  conquest  of  nature.  Society  is  therefore 
stationary  as  in  China  and  India.  Enfolded  and  imprisoned 
within  the  overpowering  vastness  and  illimitable  sweep  of  na- 
ture, man  is  almost  unconscious  of  his  freedom  and  his  person- 
ality. He  surrenders  himself  to  the  disposal  of  a  mysterious 
^^/ate"  and  yields  readily  to  the  despotic  sway  of  superhuman 
powers.  The  State  is  consequently  the  reign  of  a  single  des- 
potic will.  The  laws  of  the  Medes  and  Persians  are  unaltera- 
ble. But  in  Greece  we  have  extended  border-lands  on  the 
coast  of  navigable  seas  ;  peninsulas  elaborately  articulated,  and 
easy  of  access.  We  have  mountains  sufficiently  elevated  to 
shade  the  land  and  diversify  the  scenery,  and  yet  of  such  a 
form  as  not  to  impede  communication.  They  are  usually 
placed  neither  in  parallel  chains  nor  in  massive  groups,  but 
are  so  disposed  as  to  inclose  extensive  tracts  of  land  admira- 
bly adapted  to  become  the  seats  of  small  and  independent 
communities,  separated  by  natural  boundaries,  sometimes  im- 
possible to  overleap.  The  face  of  the  interior  country, — its 
forms  of  relief,  seemed  as  though  Providence  designed,  from 
the  beginning,  to  keep  its  populations  socially  and  politically 
disunited.  These  difficulties  of  internal  transit  by  land  were, 
however,  counteracted  by  the  large  proportion  of  coast,  and  the 
^(accessibility  of  the  country  by  sea.  The  promontories  and  in- 
(dentations  in  the  line  of  the  Grecian  coast  are  hardly  less  re- 
markable than  the  peculiar  elevations  and  depressions  of  the 
surface.  "  The  shape  of  Peloponnesus,  with  its  three  southern 
gulfs,  the  Argolic,  Laconian,  and  Messenian,  was  compared  by 
the  ancient  geographers  to  the  leaf  of  a  plane-tree :  the  Pa- 
gasaean  gulf  on  the  eastern  side  of  Greece,  and  the  Ambrakian 
gulf  on  the  western,  with  their  narrow  entrances  and  consider- 
^  Cousin,  vol.  i.  pp.  151,  170. 


8  CHRISTIANITY  AND 


able  area,  are  equivalent  to  internal  lakes  :  Xenophon  boasts 
of  the  double  sea  which  embraces  so  large  a  portion  of  Attica ; 
Ephorus,  of  the  triple  sea  by  which  Bceotia  was  accessible  from 
west,  north,  and  south — the  Euboean  strait,  opening  a  long  line 
of  country  on  both  sides  to  coasting  navigation.  But  the  most 
important  of  all  Grecian  gulfs  are  the  Corinthian  and  Saronic* 
washing  the  northern  and  north-eastern  shores  of  Peloponne- 
sus, and  separated  by  the  narrow  barrier  of  the  Isthmus  of 
Corinth.  The  former,  especially,  lays  open  ^tolia,  Phokis,  and 
Boeotia,  as  the  whole  northern  coast  of  Peloponnesus,  to  water 

approach It  will  thus  appear  that  there  was  no  part  of 

Greece  proper  which  could  be  considered  as  out  of  the  reach 
of  the  sea,  whilst  most  parts  of  it  were  easy  of  access.  The  sea 
was  thus  the  sole  channel  for  transmitting  improvements  and 
ideas  as  well  as  for  maintaining  sympathies  "  between  the  Hel- 
lenic tribes.^  The  sea  is  not  only  the  grand  highway  of  com- 
mercial intercourse,  but  the  empire  of  movement,  of  progress, 
and  of  freedom.  Here  man  is  set  free  from  the  bondage  im- 
posed by  the  overpowering  magnitude  and  vastness  of  continen- 
tal and  oceanic  forms.  The  boisterous  and,  apparently,  lawless 
wdnds  are  made  to  obey  his  will.  He  mounts  the  sea  as  on  a 
fiery  steed  and  "  lays  his  hand  upon  her  mane."  And  w^hilst 
thus  he  succeeds,  in  any  measure,  to  triumph  over  nature,  he 
wakes  to  conscious  power  and  freedom.  It  is  in  this  region  of 
contact  and  commingling  of  sea  and  land  where  man  attains 
the  highest  superiority.  Refreshing  our  historic  recollections, 
and  casting  our  eyes  upon  the  map  of  the  world,  we  can  not 
fail  to  see  that  all  the  most  highly  civilized  nations  have  lived, 
or  still  live,  on  the  margin  of  the  sea. 

The  peculiar  configuration  of  the  territory  of  Greece,  its 
forms  of  relief,  "  so  like,  in  many  respects,  to  Switzerland,"  could 
not  fail  to  exert  a  powerful  influence  on  the  character  and  des- 
tiny of  its  people.  Its  inclosing  mountains  materially  in- 
creased their  defensive  power,  and,  at  the  same  time,  inspired 
them  with  the  love  of  liberty.  Those  mountains,  as  we  have 
^  Grote's  "  Hist,  of  Greece,"  vol.  ii.  pp.  221,  225. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  •  39 

seen,  so  unique  in  their  distribution,  were  natural  barriers 
against  the  invasion  of  foreign  nations,  and  they  rendered  each 
separate  community  secure  against  the  encroachments  of  the 
rest.  The  pass  of  Thermopylae,  between  Thessaly  and  Phocis.; 
that  of  Cithaeron,  between  Boeotia  and  Attica ;  and  the  mount- 
ain ranges  of  Oneion  and  Geraneia,  along  the  Isthmus  of  Cor- 
inth, were  positions  which  could  be  defended  against  any  force 
of  invaders.  This  signal  peculiarity  in  the  forms  of  relief  pro- 
tected each  section  of  the  Greeks  from  being  conquered,  and 
at  the  same  time  maintained  their  separate  autonomy.  The 
separate  states  of  Greece  lived,  as  it  were,  in  the  presence  of 
each  other,  and  at  the  same  time  resisted  all  influences  and 
all  efforts  towards  a  coalescence  with  each  other,  until  the  time 
of  Alexander.  Their  country,  a  word  of  indefinite  meaning  to 
the  Asiatic,  conveyed  to  them  as  definite  an  idea  as  that  of  their 
own  homes.  Its  whole  landscape,  with  all  its  historic  associa- 
tions, its  glorious  monuments  of  heroic  deeds,  were  perpetually 
present  to  their  eyes.  Thus  their  patriotism,  concentrated 
within  a  narrow  sphere,  and  kept  alive  by  the  sense  of  their  in- 
dividual importance,  their  democratic  spirit,  ajid  their  struggles 
with  surrounding  communities  to  maintain  their  independence, 
became  a  strong  and  ruling  passion.  Their  geographical  sur- 
roundings had,  therefore,  a  powerful  influence  upon  their  polit- 
ical institutions.  Conquest,  which  forces  nations  of  different 
habits,  characters,  and  languages  into  unity,  is  at  last  the  par- 
ent of  degrading  servitude.  These  nations  are  only  held  to- 
gether, as  in  the  Roman  empire,  by  the  iron  hand  of  military 
power.  The  despot,  surrounded  by  a  foreign  soldiery,  appears 
in  the  conquered  provinces,  simply  to  enforce  tribute,  and  com- 
pel obedience  to  his  arbitrary  will.  But  the  small  Greek  comr 
munities,  protected  by  the  barriers  of  their  seas  and  gulfs  and 
mountains,  escaped,  for  centuries,  this  evil  destiny.  The  peo- 
ple, united  by  identity  of  language  and  manners  and  religion, 
by  common  interest  and  facile  intercommunication,  could  read- 
ily combine  to  resist  the  invasions  of  foreign  nations,  as  well  as 
the  encroachments  of  their  own  rulers.     And  they  were  able  to 


40  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

easily  model  their  own  government  according  to  their  own  ne- 
cessities and  circumstances  and  common  interests,  and  to  make 
the  end  for  which  it  existed  the  sole  measure  of  the  powers  it 
was  permitted  to  wield.  ^ 

Jhe  soil  of  Attica  was  not  the  most  favorable  to  agricultural 
pursuits.  In  many  places  it  was  stony  and  uneven,  and  a  con- 
siderable proportion  was  bare  rock,  on  which  nothing  could  be 
grown.  Not  half  the  surface  was  capable  of  cultivation.  In 
this  respect  it  may  be  fitly  compared  to  some  of  the  New  Eng- 
land States.  The  light,  dry  soil  produced  excellent  barley,  but 
not  enough  of  wheat  for  their  own  consumption.  Demosthenes 
informs  us  that  Athens  brought  every  year,  from  Byzantium, 
four  hundred  thousand  medimni  of  wheat.  The  alluvial  plains, 
under  industrious  cultivation,  would  furnish  a  frugal  subsistence 
for  a  large  population,  and  the  mildness  of  the  climate  allowed 
all  the  more  valuable  products  to  ripen  early,  and  go  out  of 
season  last.  Such  conditions,  of  course,  would  furnish  motives 
for  skill  and  industry,  and  demand  of  the  people  frugal  and 
temperate  habits.  The  luxuriance  of  a  tropical  climate  tends 
to  improvidence  and  indolence.  Where  nature  pours  her  full- 
ness into  the  lap  of  ease,  forethought  and  providence  are  little 
needed.  There  is  none  of  that  struggle  for  existence  which 
awakens  sagacity,  and  calls  into  exercise  the  active  powers  of 
man.  But  in  a  country  where  nature  only  yields  her  fruits  as 
the  reward  of  toil,  and  yet  enough  to  the  intelligent  culture  of 
the  soil,  there  habits  of  patient  industry  must  be  formed.  The 
alternations  of  summer  and  winter  excite  to  forethought  and 
providence,  and  the  comparative  poverty  of  the  soil  will  prompt 
to  frugality.  Man  naturally  aspires  to  improve  his  condition 
by  all  the  means  within  his  power.  He  becomes  a  careful  ob- 
server of  nature,  he  treasures  up  the  results  of  observation,  he 
compares  one  fact  with  another  and  notes  their  relations,  and 
he  makes  new  experiments  to  test  his  conclusions,  and  thus  he 
awakes  to  the  vigorous  exercise  of  all  his  powers.  These  phys- 
ical conditions  must  develop  a  hardy,  vigorous,  prudent,  and 
*  Encyc.  Brit,,  art.  "  Greece." 


OEEEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


41 


temperate  race ;  and  such,  unquestionably,  were  the  Greeks. 
"  Theophrastus,  and  other  authors,  amply  attest  the  observant 
and  industrious  agriculture  prevalent  in  Greece.  The  culture 
of  the  vine  and  olive  appears  to  have  been  particularly  elabo- 
rate ;  and  the  many  different  accidents  of  soil,  level,  and  expo- 
sure which  were  to  be  found,  afforded  to  observant  planters 
materials  for  study  and  comparison.'-'^  The  Greeks  were  fru- 
gal in  their  habits  and  simple  in  their  modes  of  life.  The  bar- 
ley loaf  seems  to  have  been  more  generally  eaten  than  the 
wheaten  loaf ;  this,  with  salt  fish  and  vegetables,  was  the  com- 
mon food  of  the  population.  Economy  in  domestic  life  was 
universal.  In  their  manners,  their  dress,  their  private  dwell- 
ings, they  were  little  disposed  to  ostentation  or  display. 

The  climate  of  Attica  is  what,  in  physical  geography,  would 
be  called  maritime.  "  Here  are  allied  the  continental  vigor 
and  oceanic  softness,  in  a  fortunate  union,  mutually  tempering 
each  other.  "^  The  climate  of  the  whole  peninsula  of  Greece 
seems  to  be  distinguished  from  that  of  Spain  and  Italy,  by 
having  more  of  the  character  of  an  inland  region.  The  diver- 
sity of  local  temperature  is  greater ;  the  extremes  of  summer 
and  winter  more  severe.  In  Arcadia  the  snow  has  been  found 
eighteen  inches  thick  in  January,  with  the  thermometer  at  16° 
Fahrenheit,  and  it  sometimes  lies  on  the  ground  for  six  weeks. 
The  summits  of  the  central  chains  of  Pindus  and  most  of  the 
Albanian  mountains  are  covered  with  snow  from  the  beginning 
of  November  to  the  end  of  March.  In  Attica,  which,  being 
freely  exposed  to  the  sea,  has  in  some  measure  an  insular  cli- 
mate, the  winter  sets  in  about  the  beginning  of  January. 
About  the  middle  of  that  month  the  snow  begins  to  fall,  but 
seldom  remains  upon  the  plain  for  more  than  a  few  days,  though 
it  lies  on  the  summit  of  the  mountain  for  a  month.^  And  then, 
whilst  Bceotia,  which  joins  to  Attica,  is  higher  and  colder,  and 
often  covered  with  dense  fogs,  Attica  is  remarkable  for  the 

^  Grote,  "  Hist,  of  Greece,"  vol.  ii.  p.  230. 
'  Guyot;  "  Earth  and  Man,"  p.  181. 
^  Encyc.  Brit,  art.  "  Greece." 


42  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

wonderful  transparency,  dryness,  and  elasticity  of  its  atmos- 
phere. All  these  climatal  conditions  exerted,  no  doubt,  a  mod- 
ifying influence  upon  the  character  of  the  inhabitants.^  In  a 
tropical  climate  man  is  enfeebled  by  excessive  heat.  His  nat- 
ural tendency  is  to  inaction  and  repose.  His  life  is  passed  in 
a  "  strenuous  idleness."  His  intellectual,  his  reflective  faculties 
are  overmastered  by  his  physical  instincts.  Passion,  sentiment, 
imagination  prevail  over  the  sober  exercises  of  his  reasoning 
powers.  Poetry  universally  predominates  over  philosophy. 
The  whole  character  of  Oriental  language,  religion,  literature 
is  intensely  imaginative.  In  the  frozen  regions  of  the  frigid 
zone,  where  a  perpetual  winter  reigns,  and  where  lichens  and 
mosses  are  the  only  forms  of  vegetable  life,  man  is  condemned 
to  the  life  of  a  huntsman,  and  depends  mainly  for  his  subsist- 
ence on  the  precarious  chances  of  the  chase.  He  is  conse- 
quently nomadic  in  his  habits,  and  barbarous  withal.  His 
whole  life  is  spent  in  the  bare  process  of  procuring  a  living. 
He  consumes  a  large  amount  of  oleaginous  food,  and  breathes 
a  damp  heavy  atmosphere,  and  is,  consequently,  of  a  dull 
phlegmatic  temperament.  Notwithstanding  his  uncertain  sup- 
plies of  food,  he  is  recklessly  improvident,  and  indiflerent  to  all 
the  lessons  of  experience.  Intellectual  pursuits  are  all  pre- 
cluded. There  is  no  motive,  no  opportunity,  and  indeed  no 
disposition  for  mental  culture.  But  in  a  temperate  climate 
man  is  stimulated  to  high  mental  activity.  The  alternations 
of  heat  and  cold,  of  summer  and  of  winter,  an  elastic,  fresh, 
and  bracing  atmosphere,  a  diversity  in  the  aspects  of  nature, 
these  develop  a  vivacity  of  temperament,  a  quickness  of  sen- 
sibility as  well  as  apprehension,  and  a  versatility  of  feeling  as 

^  The  influence  of  climatic  conditions  did  not  escape  the  attention  of 
the  Greeks.  Herodotus,  Hippocrates,  and  Aristotle  speak  of  the  climate 
of  Asia  as  more  enervating  than  that  of  Greece.  They  regarded  the  change- 
ful character  and  diversity  of  local  temperature  in  Greece  as  highly  stimu- 
lating to  the  energies  of  the  populations.  The  marked  contrast  between 
the  Athenians  and  the  Boeotians  was  supposed  to  be  represented  in  the 
light  and  heavy  atmosphere  which  they  respectively  breathed. — Groie,  vol. 
ii.  pp.  232-3. 


GBEEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


43 


well  as  genius.     History  marks  out  the  temperate  zone  as  the 
seat  of  the  refined  and  cultivated  nations. 

The  natural  scenery  of  Greece  was  of  unrivalled  grandeur — 
surpassing  Italy,  perhaps  every  country  in  the  world.  It  com- 
bined in  the  highest  degree  every  feature  essential  to  the  high- 
est beauty  of  a  landscape  except,  perhaps,  large  rivers.  But 
this  was  more  than  compensated  for  by  the  proximity  of  the 
sea,  which,  by  its  numerous  arms,  seemed  to  embrace  the  land 
on  nearly  every  side.  Its  mountains,  encircled  with  zones  of 
wood,  and  capped  with  snow,  though  much  lower  than  the  Alps, 
are  as  imposing  by  the  suddenness  of  their  elevation — "  pillars 
of  heaven,  the  fosterers  of  enduring  snows."^  Rich  sheltered 
plains  lie  at  their  feet,  covered  with  an  unequally  woven  mantle 
of  trees,  and  shrubs,  and  flowers, — "  the  verdant  gloom  of  the 
thickly-mantling  ivy,  the  narcissus  steeped  in  heavenly  dew, 
the  golden-beaming  crocus,  the  hardy  and  ever-fresh-sprouting 
olive-tree,"''  and  the  luxuriant  palm,  which  nourishes  amid  its 
branches  the  grape  swelling  with  juice.  But  it  is  the  combi- 
nation of  these  features,  in  the  most  diversified  manner,  with 
beautiful  inland  bays  and  seas,  broken  by  headlands,  inclosed 
by  mountains,  and  studded  with  islands  of  every  form  and 
magnitude,  which  gives  to  the  scenery  of  Greece  its  proud  pre- 
eminence. "  Greek  scenery,"  says  Humboldt,  "  presents  the 
peculiar  charm  of  an  intimate  blending  of  sea  and  land,  of 
shores  adorned  with  vegetation,  or  picturesquely  girt  with  rocks 
gleaming  in  the  light  of  aerial  tints,  and  an  ocean  beautiful  in 
the  play  of  the  ever-changing  brightness  of  its  deep-toned 
wave."^  And  over  all  the  serene,  deep  azure  skies,  occasion- 
ally veiled  by  light  fleecy  clouds,  with  vapoiy  purple  mists  rest- 
ing on  the  distant  mountain  tops.  This  glorious  scenery  of 
Greece  is  evermore  the  admiration  of  the  modern  traveller. 
"  In  wandering  about  Athens  on  a  sunny  day  in  March,  when 
the  asphodels  are  blooming  on  Colones,  when  the  immortal 
mountains  are  folded  in  a  transparent  haze,  and  the  ^gean 

^  Pindar.  "  Sophocles,  "  CEdipus  at  Colonna." 

^  "  Cosmos,"  vol.  ii.  p.  25. 


44  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

slumbers  afar  among  his  isles,"  he  is  reminded  of  the  lines  of 
Byron  penned  amid  these  scenes — 

"  Yet  are  thy  skies  as  blue,  thy  crags  as  wild  ; 
Sweet  are  thy  groves,  and  verdant  are  thy  fields, 
Thine  olives  ripe  as  when  Minerva  smiled, 
And  still  his  honeyed  wealth  Hymettus  yields ; 
There  the  blithe  bee  his  fragrant  fortress  builds, 
The  freeborn  wanderer  of  the  mountain  air ; 
Apollo  still  thy  long,  long  summer  gilds. 
Still  in  his  beams  Mendeli's  marbles  glare  ; 
Art,  Glory,  Freedom  fail,  but  nature  still  is  fair."* 

The  effect  of  this  scenery  upon  the  character,  the  imagina- 
tion, the  taste  of  the  Athenians  must  have  been  immense. 
Under  the  influence  of  such  sublime  objects,  the  human  mind 
becomes  gifted  as  with  inspiration,  and  is  by  nature  filled  with 
poetic  images.  "Greece  became  the  birth-place  of  taste,  of 
art,  and  eloquence,  the  chosen  sanctuary  of  the  muses,  the  pro- 
totype of  all  that  is  graceful,  and  dignified,  and  grand  in  senti- 
ment and  action." 

And  now,  if  we  have  succeeded  in  clearly  presenting  and 
properly  grouping  the  facts,  and  in  estimating  the  influence  of 
geographical  position  and  surroundings  on  national  character, 
we  have  secured  the  natural  criteria  by  which  we  examine,  and 
even  correct  the  portraiture  of  the  Athenian  character  usually 
presented  by  the  historian. 

The  character  of  the  Athenians  has  been  sketched  by  Plu- 
tarch' with  considerable  minuteness,  and  his  representations 
have  been  permitted,  until  of  late  years,  to  pass  unchallenged. 
He  has  described  them  as  at  once  passionate  and  placable, 
easily  moved  to  anger,  and  as  easily  appeased  ;  fond  of  pleas- 
antry and  repartee,  and  heartily  enjoying  a  laugh  ;  pleased  to 
hear  themselves  praised,  and  yet  not  annoyed  by  criticism  and 
censure  ;  naturally  generous  towards  those  who  were  poor  and 
in  humble  circumstances,  and  humane  even  towards  their  ene- 
mies ;  jealous  of  their  liberties,  and  keeping  even  their  rulers 
in  awe.  In  regard  to  their  intellectual  traits,  he  afhrms  their 
*  Canto  ii.,  v.  Ixxxvi.,  "  Childe  Harold."  "^  "  De  Praecept." 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


45 


minds  were  not  formed  for  laborious  research,  and  though  they 
seized  a  subject  as  it  were  by  intuition,  yet  wanted  patience  and 
perseverance  for  a  thorough  examination  of  all  its  bearings. 
"  An  observation,"  says  the  writer  of  the  article  on  ^^  Attica" 
in  the  Encyclopaedia  Britannica,  "  more  superficial  in  itself,  and 
arguing  a  greater  ignorance  of  the  Athenians,  can  not  easily  be 
imagined."  Plutarch  lived  more  than  three  hundred  years 
after  the  palmy  days  of  the  Athenian  Demos  had  passed  away. 
He  was  a  Boeotian  by  birth,  not  an  Attic,  and  more  of  a  Roman 
than  a  Greek  in  all  his  sympathies.  We  are  tempted  to  regard 
him  as  writing  under  the  influence  of  prejudice,  if  not  of  envy. 
He  was  scarcely  reliable  as  a  biographer,  and  as  materials  for 
history  his  '*  Parallel  Lives  "  have  been  pronounced  "  not  alto- 
gether trustworthy.^ 

That  the  Athenians  were  remarkable  for  the  ardor  and  vi- 
vacity of  their  temperament, — that  they  were  liable  to  sudden 
gusts  of  passion, — that  they  were  inconstant  in  their  affections, 
intolerant  of  dictation,  impatient  of  control,  and  hasty  to  resent 
every  assumption  of  superiority, — that  they  were  pleased  with 
flattery,  and  too  ready  to  lend  a  willing  ear  to  the  adulation  of 
the  demagogue, — and  that  they  were  impetuous  and  brave, 
yet  liable  to  be  excessively  elated  by  success,  and  depressed 
by  misfortune,  we  may  readily  believe,  because  such  traits  of 
character  are  in  perfect  harmony  with  all  the  facts  and  conclu- 
sions already  presented.  Such  characteristics  were  the  natural 
product  of  the  warm  and  genial  sunlight,  the  elastic  -bracing  air, 
the  ethereal  skies,  the  glorious  mountain  scenery,  and  the  elab- 
orate blending  of  sea  and  land,  so  peculiar  to  Greece  and  the 
whole  of  Southern  Europe.^     These  characteristics  were  shared 

^  Encyc.  of  Biography,  art.  "  Plutarch." 

^  "As  the  skies  of  Hellas  surpassed  nearly  all  other  climates  in  bright- 
ness and  elasticity,  so,  also,  had  nature  dealt  most  lovingly  with  the  inhab- 
itants of  this  land.  Throughout  the  whole  being  of  the  Greek  there  reigned 
supreme  a  quick  susceptibility,  out  of  which  sprang  a  gladsome  serenity  of 
temper,  and  a  keen  enjoyment  of  life  ;  acute  sense,  and  nimbleness  of  ap- 
prehension ;  a  guileless  and  child-like  feeling,  full  of  trust  and  faith,  com- 
bined with  prudence  and  forecast.  These  peculiarities  lay  so  deeply  imbed- 
ded in  the  inmost  nature  of  the  Greeks  that  no  revolutions  of  time  and  cir- 


46  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

in  a  greater  or  less  degree  by  all  the  nations  of  Southern  Eu- 
rope in  ancient  times,  and  they  are  still  distinctive  traits  in  the 
Frenchman,  the  Italian,  anji  the  modern  Greek/ 

The  consciousness  of  power,  the  feeling  of  independence, 
the  ardent  love  of  freedom  induced  in  the  Athenian  mind  by 
the  objective  freedom  of  movement  which  his  geographical  po- 
sition afforded,  and  that  subordination  and  subserviency  of 
physical  nature  to  man  so  peculiar  to  Greece,  determined  the 
democratic  character  of  all  their  political  institutions.  And 
these  institutions  reacted  upon  the  character  of  the  people  and 
intensified  their  love  of  liberty.  This  passionate  love  of  per- 
sonal freedom,  amounting  almost  to  disease,  excited  them  to  a 
constant  and  almost  distressing  vigilance.  And  it  is  not  to  be 
wondered  at  if  it  displayed  itself  in  an  extreme  jealousy  of  their 
rulers,  an  incessant  supervision  and  criticism  of  all  their  pro- 
ceedings, and  an  intense  and  passionate  hatred  of  tyrants  and 
of  tyranny.  The  popular  legislator  or  the  successful  soldier 
might  dare  to  encroach  upon  their  liberties  in  the  moment 
when  the  nation  was  intoxicated  and  dazzled  with  their  genius, 
their  prowess,  and  success  ;  but  a  sudden  revulsion  of  popular 
feeling,  and  an  explosion  of  popular  indignation,  would  over- 
turn the  one,  and  ostracism  expel  the  other.  Thus  while  in- 
constancy, and  turbulence,  and  faction  seem  to  have  been  in- 
separable from  the  democratic  spirit,  the  Athenians  were  cer- 
tainly constant  in  their  love  of  liberty,  faithful  in  their  affection 
for  their  country,'*  and  invariable  in  their  sympathy  and  admi- 

cumstances  have  yet  been  able  to  destroy  them ;  nay,  it  may  be  asserted 
that  even  now,  after  centuries  of  degradation,  they  have  not  been  wholly  ex- 
tinguished in  the  inhabitants  of  ancient  Hellas." — '•^Education  of  the  Moral 
Sentiment  amongst  the  Ancient  Greeks^    By  Frederick  Jacobs,  p.  320. 

^  These  are  described  by  the  modern  historian  and  traveller  as  lively,  ver- 
satile, and  witty.  "  The  love  of  liberty  and  independence  does  not  seem  to 
be  rooted  out  of  the  national  character  by  centuries  of  subjugation.  They 
love  to  command  ;  but  though  they  are  loyal  to  a  good  government,  they 
are  apt  readily  to  rise  when  their  rights  and  liberties  are  infringed.  As 
there  is  little  love  of  obedience  among  them,  so  neither  is  there  any  tolera- 
tion of  aristocratic  pretensions." — Encyc.  Brit,  art.  "  Greece." 

'  When  immense  bribes  were  offered  by  the  king  of  Persia  to  induce  the 
Athenians  to  detach  themselves  from  the  alliance  with  the  rest  of  the  Hel- 


GREEK  FHILOSOPIIT.  47 

ration  for  that  genius  which  shed  glory  upon  their  native  land. 
And  then  they  were  ever  ready  to  repair  the  errors,  and  make 
amends  for  the  injustice  committed  under  the  influence  of  pas- 
sionate excitement,  or  the  headlong  impetuosity  of  their  too  ar- 
dent temperament.  The  history  of  Greece  supplies  numerous 
illustrations  of  this  spirit.  The  sentence  of  death  which  had 
been  hastily  passed  on  the  inhabitants  of  Mytilene  was,  on  so- 
ber reflection,  revoked  the  following  day.  The  immediate  re- 
pentance and  general  sorrow  which  followed  the  condemnation 
of  the  ten  generals,  as  also  of  Socrates,  are  notable  instances. 

In  their  private  life  the  Athenians  were  courteous,  generous, 
and  humane.  Whilst  bold  and  free  in  the  expression  of  their 
opinions,  they  paid  the  greatest  attention  to  rules  of  politeness, 
and  were  nicely  delicate  on  points  of  decorum.  They  had  a 
natural  sense  of  what  was  becoming  and  appropriate,  and  an 
innate  aversion  to-  all  extravagance.  A  graceful  demeanor  and 
a  quiet  dignity  were  distinguishing  traits  of  Athenian  character. 
They  were  temperate  and  frugaP  in  their  habits,  and  little  ad- 
dicted to  ostentation  and  display.  Even  after  their  victories  had 
brought  them  into  contact  with  Oriental  luxury  and  extrava- 
gance, and  their  wealth  enabled  them  to  rival,  in  costliness  and 
splendor,  the  nations  they  had  conquered,  they  still  maintained 
a  republican  simplicity.  The  private  dwellings  of  the  principal 
citizens  were  small,  and  usually  built  of  clay ;  their  interior  em- 
bellishments also  were  insignificant — the  house -of  Polytion  alone 
formed  an  exception.''  All  their  sumptuousness  and  magnifi- 
cence were  reserved  for  and  lavished  on  their  public  edifices 

lenic  States,  she  answered  by  the  mouth  of  Aristides  "  that  it  was  impossi- 
ble for  all  the  gold  in  the  world  to  tempt  the  Republic  of  Athens,  or  prevail 
with  it  to  sell  its  liberty  and  that  of  Greece  !" 

^  These  are  still  characteristics  of  the  Greeks.  "  They  are  an  exceed- 
ingly temperate  people  ;  drunkenness  is  a  vice  remarkably  rare  amongst 
them  ;  their  food  also  is  spare  and  simple ;  even  the  richest  are  content 
with  a  dish  of  vegetables  for  each  meal,  and  the  poor  with  a  handful  of  olives 
or  a  piece  of  salt  fish All  other  pleasures  are  indulged  with  similar  pro- 
priety ;  their  passions  are  moderate,  and  insanity  is  almost  unknown  amongst 
them." — Encyc.  Brit.y  art.  "  Greece." 

"^  Niebuhr's  Lectures,  vol.  i.  p.  loi. 


48  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

and  monuments  of  art,  which  made  Athens  the  pride  of  Greece 
and  the  wonder  of  the  world.  Intellectually,  the  Athenians 
were  remarkable  for  their  quickness  of  apprehension,  their  nice 
and  delicate  perception,  their  intuitional  power,  and  their  ver- 
satile genius.  Nor  were  they  at  all  incapable  of  pursuing  labo- 
rious researches,  or  wanting  in  persevering  application  and  in- 
dustry, notwithstanding  Plutarch's  assertion  to  the  contrary. 
The  circumstances  of  every-day  life  in  Attica,  the  conditions 
which  surrounded  the  Athenian  from  childhood  to  age,  were 
such  as  to  call  for  the  exercise  of  these  qualities  of  mind  in  the 
highest  degree.  Habits  of  patient  industry  were  induced  in 
the  Athenian  character  by  the  poverty  and  comparativ^e  barren- 
ness of  the  soil,  demanding  greater  exertion  to  supply  their 
natural  wants.  And  an  annual  period  of  dormancy,  though  un- 
accompanied by  the  rigors  of  a  northern  winter,  called  for  pru- 
dence in  husbanding,  and  forethought  and  skill  in  endeavoring 
to  increase  their  natural  resources.  The  aspects  of  nature 
were  less  massive  and  awe-inspiring,  her  features  more  subdued, 
and  her  areas  more  circumscribed  and  broken,  inviting  and 
emboldening  man  to  attempt  her  conquest.  The  whole  tend- 
ency of  natural  phenomena  in  Greece  was  to  restrain  the  im- 
agination, and  discipline  the  observing  and  reasoning  faculties 
in  man.  Thus  was  man  inspired  with  confidence  in  his  own 
resources,  and  allured  to  cherish  an  inquisitive,  analytic,  and 
scientific  spirit.  "  The  French,  in  point  of  national  character, 
hold  nearly  the  same  relative  place  amongst  the  nations  of  Eu- 
rope that  the  Athenians  held  amongst  the  States  of  Ancient 
Greece."  And  whilst  it  is  admitted  the  French  are  quick, 
sprighdy,  vivacious,  perhaps  sometimes  light  even  to  frivolity,  it 
must  be  conceded  they  have  cultivated  the  natural  and  exact 
sciences  with  a  patience,  and  perseverance,  and  success  un- 
surpassed by  any  of  the  nations  of  Europe.  And  so  the  Athe- 
nians were  the  Frenchmen  of  Greece.  Whilst  they  spent  their 
"  leisure  time  "'  in  the  place  of  public  resort,  the  porticoes  and 
groves,  "  hearing  and  telling  the  latest  news  "  (no  undignified 
^  EvKuipku)  corresponds  exactly  to  the  Latin  vacare,  "  to  be  at  leisure." 


GREEK  PHILOHOPHY. 


49 


or  improper  mode  of  recreation  in  a  city  where  newspapers 
were  unknown),  whilst  they  are  condemned  as  "garrulous," 
"  frivolous,"  "  full  of  curiosity,"  and  "  restlessly  fond  of  novel- 
ties," we  must  insist  that  a  lave  of  study,  of  patient  thought 
and  profound  research,  was  congenial  to  their  natural  temper- 
ament, and  that  an  inquisitive  and  analytic  spirit,  as  well  as  a 
taste  for  subtile  and  abstract  speculation,  were  inherent  in  the 
national  character.     The  affluence,  and  fullness,  and  flexibility, 
and  sculpture-like  finish  of  the  language  of  the  Attics,  which 
leaves  far  behind  not  only  the  languages  of  antiquity,  but  also 
the  most  cultivated  of  modern  times,  is  an  enduring  monument 
of  the  patient  industry  of  the  Athenians.^     Language  is  un- 
questionably the  highest  creation  of  reason,  and  in  the  language 
of  a  nation  we  can  see  reflected  as  in  a  mirror  the  amount  of 
culture  to  which  it  has  attained.     The  rare  balance  of  the  im- 
agination and  the  reasoning  powers,  in  which  the  perfection  of 
the  human  intellect  is  regarded  as  consisting,  the  exact  corre- 
spondence between  the  thought  and  the  expression,  "the  free 
music  of  prosaic  numbers  in  the  most  diversified  forms  of  style," 
the  calmness,  and  perspicuity,  and  order,  even  in  the  stormiest 
moments  of  inspiration,  revealed  in  every  department  of  Greek 
literature,  were  not  a  mere  happy  stroke  of  chance,  but  a  prod- 
uct of  unwearied  effort — and  effort  too  which  was  directed  by 
the  criteria  which  reason  supplied.     The  plastic  art  of  Greece, 
which  after  the  lapse  of  ages  still  stands  forth  in  unrivalled 
beauty,  so  that,  in  presence  of  the  eternal  models  it  created, 
the  modern  artist  feels  the  painful  lack  of  progress  was  not 
a  spontaneous  outburst  of  genius,  but   the   result  of  intense 
application  and  unwearied  discipline.     The  achievements  of 
the  philosophic  spirit,  the  ethical  and  political  systems  of  the 
Academy,  the  Lyceum,  the  Stoa,  and  the  Garden,  the  anticipa- 
tions, scattered  here  and  there  like  prophetic  hints,  of  some  of 
the  profoundest   discoveries  of  "inductive   science"  in  more 
modern  days, — all  these  are  an  enduring  protest  against  the 
strange  misrepresentations  of  Plutarch. 

'  Frederick  Jacobs,  on  "  Study  of  Classic  Antiquity,"  p.  57. 
4 


50  CEMISTIANITT  AND 

In  Athens  there  existed  a  providential  collocation  of  the 
most  favorable  conditions  in  which  humanity  can  be  placed  for 
securing  its  highest  natural  development.  Athenian  civiliza- 
tion is  the  solution,  on  the  theatre  of  history,  of  the  problem — 
What  degree  of  perfection  can  humanity,  under  the  most  favor- 
able conditions,  attain,  without  the  supernatural  light,  and 
guidance,  and  grace  of  Christianity  ?*     "  Like  their  own  god- 

^  It  has  been  asserted  by  some  theological  writers,  Watson  for  example, 
that  no  society  of  civilized  men  has  been,  or  can  be  constituted  without  the 
aid  of  a  religion  directly  communicated  by  revelation,  and  transmitted  by 
oral  tradition  ; — '*  that  it  is  possible  to  raise  a  body  of  men  into  that  degree 
of  civil  improvement  which  would  excite  the  passion  for  philosophic  inves- 
tigation, without  the  aid  of  religion can  have  no  proof,  and  is  contradict- 
ed by  every  fact  and  analogy  with  which  we  are  acquainted  "  {Institutes^  vol. 
i.  p.  271 ;  see  also  Archbishop  Whately,  "  Dissertation,"  etc.,  vol.  i.  Encyc. 
Brit.,  p.  449-455)- 

The  fallacy  of  the  reasoning  by  which  this  doctrine  is  sought  to  be  sus> 
tained  is  found  in  the  assumption  "  that  to  all  our  race  the  existence  of  a 
First  Cause  is  a  question  of  philosophy,"  and  that  the  idea  of  God  lies  at 
the  end  of  *'  a  gradual  process  of  inquiry  "  and  induction,  for  which  a  high 
degree  of  "  scientific  culture  "  is  needed.  Whereas  the  idea  of  a  First  Cause 
lies  at  the  beginning,  not  at  the  end  of  philosophy ;  and  philosophy  is  sim- 
ply the  analysis  of  our  natural  consciousness  of  God,  and  the  presentation  of 
the  idea  in  a  logical  form.  Faith  in  the  existence  of  God  is  not  the  result 
of  a  conscious  process  of  reflection ;  it  is  the  spontaneous  and  instinctive 
logic  of  the  human  mind,  which,  in  view  of  phenomena  presented  to  sense, 
by  a  necessary  law  of  thought  immediately  and  intuitively  affirms  a  personal 
Power,  an  intelligent  Mind  as  the  author.  In  this  regard,  there  is  no  differ- 
ence between  men  except  the  clearness  with  which  they  apprehend,  and  the 
logical  account  they  can  render  to  themselves,  of  this  instinctive  belief. 
Spontaneous  intuition,  says  Cousin,  is  the  genius  of  all  men ;  reflection  the 
genius  of  few  men.  "  But  Leibnitz  had  no  more  confidence  in  the  principle 
of  causality,  and  even  in  his  favorite  principle  of  sufficient  reason,  than  the 
most  ignorant  of  men  ;"  the  latter  have  this  principle  within  them,  as  a  law 
of  thought,  controlling  their  conception  of  the  universe,  and  doing  this  al- 
most unconsciously ;  the  former,  by  an  analysis  of  thought,  succeeded  in  de- 
fining and  formulating  the  ideas  and  laws  which  necessitate  the  cognition  of 
a  God.  The  function  of  philosophy  is  simply  to  transform  alrjdrjg  66^a  into 
iiTciaTT]fxr] — right  opinion  into  science, — to  elucidate  and  logically  present  the 
immanent  thought  which  lies  in  the  universal  consciousness  of  man. 

That  the  possession  of  the  idea  of  God  is  essential  to  the  social  and  moral 
elevation  of  man, — that  is,  to  the  civilization  of  our  race,  is  most  cheerfully 
conceded.  That  humanity  has  an  end  and  destination  which  can  only  be 
secured  by  the  true  knowledge  of  God,  and  by  a  participation  of  the  nature 
of  God,  is  equally  the  doctrine  of  Plato  and  of  Christ.  Now,  if  humanity 
has  a  special  end  and  destination,  it  must  have  some  instinctive  tendings, 


QREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


51 


dess  Athene,  the  people  of  Athens  seem  to  spring  full-armed 
into  the  arena  of  history,  and  we  look  in  vain  to  Egypt,  Syria, 
and  India,  for  more  than  a  few  seeds  that  burst  into  such  mar- 
vellous growth  on  the  soil  of  Attica."^ 

Here  the  most  perfect  ideals  of  beauty  and  excellence  in 
physical  development,  in  manners,  in  plastic  art,  in  literary 
creations,  were  realized.  The  songs  of  Homer,  the  dialogues 
of  Plato,  the  speeches  of  Demosthenes,  and  the  statues  of  Phid- 
ias, if  not  unrivalled,  are  at  least  unsurpassed  by  any  thing  that 
has  been  achieved  by  their  successors.  Literature  in  its  most 
flourishing  periods  has  rekindled  its  torch  at  her  altars,  and  art 
has  looked  back  to  the  age  of  Pericles  for  her  purest  models. 
Here  the  ideas  of  personal  liberty,  of  individual  rights,  of  free- 
dom in  thought  and  action,  had  a  wonderful  expansion.  Here 
the  lasting  foundations  of  the  principal  arts  and  sciences  were 
laid,  and  in  some  of  them  triumphs  were  achieved  which  have 
not  been  eclipsed.  Here  the  sun  of  human  reason  attained  a 
meridian  splendor,  and  illuminated  every  field  in  the  domain 
of  moral  truth.  And  here  humanity  reached  the  highest  degree 
of  civilization  of  which  it  is  capable  under  purely  natural  con- 
ditions. 

And  now,  the  question  with  which  we  are  more  immediately 
concerned  is,  what  were  the  specific  and  valuable  results  at- 
tained by  the  Athenian  mind  in  religion  and  philosophy,  the  two 
momenta  of  the  human  mind  ?  This  will  be  the  subject  of  dis- 
cussion in  subsequent  chapters. 

The  order  in  which  the  discussion  shall  proceed  is  deter- 
mined for  us  by  the  natural  development  of  thought.  The  two 
fundamental  momenta  of  thought  and  its  development  are  spon- 

some  spermatic  ideas,  some  original  forces  or  laws,  which  determine  it  to- 
wards that  end.  All  development  supposes  some  original  elements  to  be 
unfolded  or  developed.  Civilization  is  but  the  development  of  humanity  ac- 
cording to  its  primal  idea  and  law,  and  under  the  best  exterior  conditions. 
That  the  original  elements  of  humanity  were  unfolded  in  some  noble  degree 
under  the  influence  of  philosophy  is  clear  from  the  history  of  Greece  ;  there 
the  most  favorable  natural  conditions  for  that  development  existed,  and 
Christianity  alone  was  needed  to  crown  the  result  with  ideal  perfection. 
*  Max  Miiller,  "  Science  of  Language,"  p.  404,  2d  series. 


53  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

taneity  and  reflection,  and  the  two  essential  forms  the}^  assume 
are  religion  and  philosophy.  In  the  natural  order  of  thought 
spontaneity  is  first,  and  reflection  succeeds  spontaneous  thought. 
And  so  religion  is  first  developed,  and  subsequently  comes  phi- 
losophy. As  religion  supposes  spontaneous  intuition,  so  phi- 
losophy has  religion  for  its  basis,  but  upon  this  basis  it  is  devel- 
oped in  an  original  manner.  "  Turn  your  attention  to  history, 
that  living  image  of  thought :  everywhere  you  perceive  religions 
and  philosophies  :  everywhere  you  see  them  produced  in  an  in- 
variable order.  Everywhere  religion  appears  with  new  socie- 
ties, and  everywhere,  just  so  far  as  societies  advance,  from  re- 
ligion springs  philosophy.'"  This  was  pre-eminently  the  case 
in  Athens,  and  we  shall  therefore  direct  our  attention  first  to 
the  Religion  of  the  Athenians. 

^  Cousin,  "  Hist,  of  Philos.,"  vol.  i.  p.  302. 


GREEK   PHILOSOPHY.  53 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE   PHILOSOPHY   OF   RELIGION. 

"  All  things  which  I  behold  bear  witness  to  your  carefulness  in  religion 
(deicidac/LLovEaTepovg. — St.  Paul. 

AS  a  prelude  and  preparation  for  the  study  of  the  religion 
of  the  Athenians,  it  may  be  well  to  consider  religion  in  its 
more  abstract  and  universal  form ;  and  inquire  in  what  does 
religion  essentially  consist ;  how  far  is  it  grounded  in  the  na- 
ture of  man ;  and  especially,  what  is  there  in  the  mental  con- 
stitution of  man,  or  in  his  exterior  conditions,  which  determines 
him  to  a  mode  of  life  which  may  be  denominated  religious .? 
As  a  preliminary  inquiry,  this  may  materially  aid  us  in  under- 
standing the  nature,  and  estimating  the  value  of  the  religious 
conceptions  and  sentiments  which  were  developed  by  the  Greek 
mind. 

Religion,  in  its  most  generic  conception,  may  be  defined  as 
a  form  of  thought,  feeling,  and  action,  which  has  the  Divine  for 
its  object,  basis,  and  end.  Or,  in  other  words,  it  is  a  mode  of 
life  determined  by  the  recognition  of  some  relation  to,  and  con- 
sciousness  of  dependence  upon,  a  Supreme  Being.  This  gen-  < 
eral  conception  of  religion  underlies  all  the  specific  forms  of  • 
religion  which  have  appeared  in  the  world,  whether  heathen, 
Jewish,  Mohammedan,  or  Christian. 

That  a  religious  destination  appertains  to  man  as  man, 
whether  he  has  been  raised  to  a  full  religious  consciousness,  or 
is  simply  considered  as  capable  of  being  so  raised,  can  not  be 
denied.  In  all  ages  man  has  revealed  an  instinctive  tendency, 
or  natural  aptitude  for  religion,  and  he  has  developed  feelings 
and  emotions  which  have  always  characterized  him  as  a  re- 
ligious being.  Religious  ideas  and  sentiments  have  prevailed 
among  all  nations,  and  have  exerted  a  powerful  influence  on 


54 


CHRISTIANITY  AND 


the  entire  course  of  human  history.  Religious  worship,  ad- 
dressed to  a  Supreme  Being  believed  to  control  the  destiny  of 
man,  has  been  coeval  and  coextensive  with  the  race.  Every 
nation  has  had  its  mythology,  and  each  mythologic  system  has 
been  simply  an  effort  of  humanity  to  realize  and  embody  in 
some  visible  form  the  relations  in  which  it  feels  itself  to  be 
connected  with  an  external,  overshadowing,  and  all-controlling 
Power  and  Presence.  The  voice  of  all  ancient,  and  all  con- 
temporaneous history,  clearly  attests  that  the  religions  principle 
is  deeply  seated  in  the  nature  of  man ;  and  that  it  has  occupied 
the  thought,  and  stirred  the  feelings  of  every  rational  man,  in 
every  age.  It  has  interwoven  itself  with  the  entire  framework 
of  human  society,  and  ramified  into  all  the  relations  of  human 
life.  By  its  agency,  nations  have  been  revolutionized,  and  em- 
pires have  been  overthrown  \  and  it  has  formed  a  mighty  ele- 
ment in  all  the  changes  which  have  marked  the  history  of  man. 

This  universality  of  religious  sentiment  and  religious  wor- 
ship must  be  conceded  as  a  fact  of  human  nature,  and,  as  a 
universal  fact,  it  demands  an  explanation.  Every  event  must 
have  a  cause.  Every  phenomenon  must  have  its  ground,  and 
reason,  and  law.  The  facts  of  religious  history,  the  past  and 
present  religious  phenomena  of  the  world  can  be  no  exception 
to  this  fundamental  principle ;  they  press  their  imperious  de- 
mand to  be  studied  and  explained,  as  much  as  the  phenomena 
of  the  material  or  the  events  of  the  moral  world.  The  phe- 
nomena of  religion,  being  universally  revealed  wherever  man 
is  found,  must  be  grounded  in  some  universal  principle,  on 
some  original  law,  which  is  connate  with,  and  natural  to  man. 
At  any  rate,  there  must  be  something  in  the  nature  of  man,  or 
in  the  exterior  conditions  of  humanity,  which  invariably  leads 
man  to  worship,  and  which  determines  him,  as  by  the  force  of 
an  original  instinct,  or  an  outward,  conditioning  necessity,  to 
recognize  and  bow  down  before  a  Superior  Power.  The  full 
recognition  and  adequate  explanation  of  the  facts  of  religious 
history  will  constitute  2i  philosophy  of  religion. 

The  hypotheses  which  have  been  offered  in  explanation  of 


QUEER  PHILOSOPHY, 


55 


the  religious  phenomena  of  the  world  are  widely  divergent,  and 
most  of  them  are,  in  our  judgment,  eminently  inadequate  and 
unsatisfactory.  The  following  enumeration  may  be  regarded 
as  embracing  all  that  are  deemed  worthy  of  consideration. 

I.  The  phenomenon  of  religion  had  its  origin  in  super- 
stition, that  is,  in  Tifear  of  invisible  and  supernatural  powers, 
generated  by  ignorance  of  nature. 

II.  The  phenomenon  of  religion  is  part  of  that  process  or 
EVOLUTION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE  {L  e.,  the  Deity),  which  gradually 
unfolding  itself  in  nature,  mind,  history,  and  religion,  attains  to 
perfect  self-consciousness  in  philosophy. 

III.  The  phenomenon  of  religion  has  its  foundation  in  feel- 
ing— the  feeling  of  depejtdence  and  of  obligation ;  and  that  to 
which  the  mind,  by  spontaneous  intuition  or  instinctive  faith, 
traces  this  dependence  and  obligation  we  call  God. 

IV.  The  phenomenon  of  religion  had  its  outbirth  in  the 
spontaneous  apperceptions  of  reason,  that  is,  the  necessary  d 
priori  ideas  of  the  Infinite^  the  Perfect^  the  Unconditioned  Cause, 
the  Eternal  Being,  which  are  evoked  into  consciousness  in  pres- 
ence of  the  changeful  and  contingent  phenomena  of  the  world. 

V.  The  phenomenon  of  religion  had  its  origin  in  external 
REVELATION,  to  which  reason  is  related  as  a  purely  passive  or- 
gan, and  heathenism  as  a  feeble  relic. 

As  a  philosophy  of  religion — an  attempt  to  supply  the  ra- 
tionale of  the  religious  phenomena  of  the  world,  the  first  hy- 
pothesis is  a  skeptical  philosophy,  which  necessarily  leads  to 
Atheism.  The  second  is  an  idealistic  philosophy  (absolute 
idealism),  which  inevitably  lands  in  Pantheism.  The  third  is 
an  intuitional  or  "  faith-philosophy,"  which  finally  ends  in  Mys- 
ticism. The  fourth  is  a  rationalistic  or  "  spiritualistic  "  philos- 
ophy, which  yields  pure  Theism.  The  last  is  an  empirical  phi- 
losophy, which  derives  all  religion  from  instruction,  and  culmi- 
na^tes  in  Dogmatic  Theology. 

In  view  of  these  diverse  and  conflicting  theories,  the  ques- 
tion which  now  presents  itself  for  our  consideration  is, — does 
any  one  of  these  hypotheses  meet  and  satisfy  the  demands  of 


56  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

the  problem  ?  does  it  fully  account  for  and  adequately  explain 
all  the  facts  of  religious  history  ?  The  answer  to  this  question 
must  not  be  hastily  or  dogmatically  given.  The  arbitrary  re- 
jection of  any  theory  that  may  be  offered,  without  a  fair  and 
candid  examination,  will  leave  our  minds  in  uncertainty  and 
doubt  as  to  the  validity  of  our  own  position.  A  blind  faith  is 
only  one  remove  from  a  pusillanimous  skepticism.  We  can 
not  render  our  own  position  secure  except  by  comprehending, 
assaulting,  and  capturing  the  position  of  our  foe.  It  is,  there- 
fore, due  to  ourselves  and  to  the  cause  of  truth,  that  we  shall 
examine  the  evidence  upon  which  each  separate  theory  is  based^ 
and  the  arguments  which  are  marshalled  in  its  support,  be- 
fore we  pronounce  it  inadequate  and  unphilosophical.  Such 
a  criticism  of  opposite  theories  will  prepare  the  way  for  the 
presentation  of  a  philosophy  of  religion  which  we  flatter  our- 
selves will  be  found  most  in  harmony  with  all  the  facts  of  the 
case. 

I.  //  is  affirmed  that  the  religious  phenomena  of  the  world  had 
their  origin  i?t  superstition,  that  is,  in  a  fear  of  unseen  and  su- 
pernatural powers,  generated  from  ignorance  of  nature. 

This  explanation  was  first  offered  by  Epicurus.  He  felt 
that  the  universality  of  the  religious  sentiment  is  a  fact  which 
demands  a  cause ;  and  he  found  it,  or  presumed  he  found  it, 
not  in  a  spiritual  God,  which  he  claims  can  not  exist,  nor  in  a 
corporeal  god  which  no  one  has  seen,  but  in  "phantoms  of  the 
mind  generated  by  fear."  When  man  has  been  unable  to  ex- 
plain any  natural  phenomenon,  to  assign  a  cause  within  the 
sphere  of  nature,  he  has  had  recourse  to  supernatural  powers, 
or  living  personalities  behind  nature,  which  move  and  control 
nature  in  an  arbitrary  and  capricious  manner.  These  imagina- 
ry powers  are  supposed  to  be  continually  interfering  in  the  af- 
fairs of  individuals  and  nations.  They  bestow  blessings  or  in- 
flict calamities.  They  reward  virtue  and  punish  vice.  They 
are,  therefore,  the  objects  of  "sacred  awe"  and  "superstitious 
fear." 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  57 

"Whate'er  in  heaven, 
In  earth,  man  sees  mysterious,  shakes  his  mind. 
With  sacred  awe  o'erwhelms  him,  and  his  soul 
Bows  to  the  dust ;  the  cause  of  things  concealed 
Once  from  his  vision,  instant  to  the  gods 
All  empire  he  transfers,  all  rule  supreme, 
And  doubtful  whence  they  spring,  with  headlong  haste 
Calls  them  the  workmanship  of  power  divine. 
For  he  who,  justly,  deems  the  Immortals  live 
Safe,  and  at  ease,  yet  fluctuates  in  his  mind 
How  things  are  swayed ;  how,  chiefly,  those  discerned 
In  heaven  sublime — to  superstition  back 
Lapses,  and  rears  a  tyrant  host,  and  then 
Conceives,  dull  reasoner,  they  can  all  things  do. 
While  yet  himself  nor  knows  what  may  be  done, 
Nor  what  may  never,  nature  powers  defined 
Stamping  on  all,  and  bounds  that  none  can  pass : 
Hence  wide,  and  wider  errs  he  as  he  walks."^  ■ 

In  order  to  rid  men  of  all  superstitious  fear,  and,  conse- 
quently, of  all  religion,  Epicurus  endeavors  to  show  that  "  na- 
ture "  alone  is  adequate  to  the  production  of  all  things,  and 
there  is  no  need  to  drag  in  a  "  divine  power  "  to  explain  the 
phenomena  of  the  world. 

This  theory  has  been  wrought  into  a  somewhat  plausible 
form  by  the  brilliant  and  imposing  generalizations  of  Aug. 
Comte.  The  religious  phenomena  of  the  world  are  simply  one 
stage  in  the  necessary  development  of  mind,  whether  in  the  in- 
dividual or  the  race.  He  claims  to  have  been  the  first  to  dis- 
cover the  great  law  of  the  three  successive  stages  or  phases  of 
human  evolution.  That  law  is  thus  enounced.  Both  in  the 
individual  mind,  and  in  the  history  of  humanity,  thought,  in 
dealing  with  its  problems,  passes,  of  necessity,  through,  first,  a 
Theological,  second,  a  Metaphysical,  and  finally  reaches  a  third, 
or  Positive  stage. 

In  attempting  an  explanation  of  the  universe,  human 
thought,  in  its  earliest  stages  of  development,  resorts  to  the 
idea  of  living  personal  agents  enshrined  in  and  moving  every 
object,  whether  organic  or  inorganic,  natural  or  artificial.  In 
an  advanced  stage,  it  conceives  a  number  of  personal  beings 
^  Lucretius,  "  De  Natura  Rerum,"  book  vi.  vs.  50-70. 


58  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

distinct  from,  and  superior  to  nature,  which  preside  over  the 
different  provinces  of  nature — the  sea,  the  air,  the  winds,  the 
rivers,  the  heavenly  bodies,  and  assume  the  guardianship  of  in- 
dividuals, tribes,  and  nations.  As  a  further,  and  still  higher 
stage,  it  asserts  the  unity  of  the  Supreme  Power  which  moves 
and  vitalizes  the  universe,  and  guides  and  governs  in  the  affairs 
of  men  and  nations.  The  Theological  stage  is  thus  subdivided 
into  three  epochs,  and  represented  as  commencing  in  Fetichism, 
then  advancing  to  Polytheism,  and,  finally,  consummating  in 
Monotheism. 

The  next  stage,  the  Metaphysical^  is  a  transitional  stage,  in 
which  man  substitutes  abstract  entities,  as  substance,  force, 
Being  in  se,  the  Infinite,  the  Absolute,  in  the  place  of  theologi- 
cal conceptions.  During  this  period  all  theological  opinions 
undergo  a  process  of  disintegration,  and  lose  their  hold  on 
the  mind  of  man.  Metaphysical  speculation  is  a  powerful  sol- 
vent, which  decomposes  and  dissipates  theology. 

It  is  only  in  the  last — the  Positive  stage — that  man  becomes 
willing  to  relinquish  all  theological  ideas  and  metaphysical  no- 
tions, and  confine  his  attention  to  the  study  of  phenomena  in 
their  relation  to  time  and  space  \  discarding  all  inquiries  as  to 
causes,  whether  efficient  or  final,  and  denying  the  existence  of 
all  entities  and  powers  beyond  nature. 

The  first  stage,  in  its  religious  phase,  is  77ieistic,  the  second 
is  Pantheistic,  the  last  is  Atheistic. 

The  proofs  offered  by  Comte  in  support  of  this  theory  are 
derived, 

I.  Prom  Cerebral  Organization.  There  are  three  grand  di- 
visions of  the  Brain,  the  Medulla  Oblongata,  the  Cerebellum, 
and  the  Cerebrum  ;  the  first  represents  the  merely  animal  in- 
stincts ;  the  second,  the  more  elevated  sentiments  ;  the  third, 
the  intellectual  powers.  Human  nature  must,  therefore,  both 
in  the  individual  and  in  the  race,  be  developed  in  the  following 
order:  (i.)  in  animal  instincts;  (2.)  in  social  affections  and 
communal  tendencies  ;  (3.)  in  intellectual  pursuits.  Infant  life 
is  a  merely  animal  existence,  shared  in  common  with  the  brute  ; 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


59 


in  childhood  the  individual  being  realizes  his  relation  to  exter- 
nal nature  and  human  society  j  in  youth  and  manhood  he  com- 
pares, generalizes,  and  classifies  the  objects  of  knowledge,  and 
attains  to  science.  And  so  the  infancy  of  our  race  was  a  mere 
animal  or  savage  state,  the  childhood  of  our  race  the  organiza- 
tion of  society,  the  youth  and  manhood  of  our  race  the  devel- 
opment of  science. 

Now,  without  offering  any  opinion  as  to  the  merits  of  the 
phrenological  theories  of  Gall  and  Spurzheim,  we  may  ask, 
what  relation  has  this  order  to  the  law  of  development  present- 
ed by  Comte  ?  Is  there  any  imaginable  connection  between 
animal  propensities  and  theological  ideas;  between  social  af- 
fections and  metaphysical  speculations  ?  Are  not  the  intellect- 
ual powers  as  much  concerned  with  theological  ideas  and  met- 
aphysical speculations  as  with  positive  science  ?  And  is  it  not 
more  probable,  more  in  accordance  with  facts,  that  all  the  pow- 
ers of  the  mind,  instinct,  feeling,  and  thought,  enter  into  action 
simultaneously,  and  condition  each  other?  The  very  first  act 
of  perception,  the  first  distinct  cognition  of  an  object,  involves 
thought  as  much  as  the  last  generalization  of  science.  We 
know  nothing  of  mind  except  as  the  development  of  thought, 
and  the  first  unfolding,  even  of  the  infant  mind,  reveals  an  in- 
tellectual act,  a  discrimination  between  a  self  and  an  object 
which  is  not  self,  and  a  recognition  of  resemblance,  or  differ- 
ence between  this  object  and  that.  And  what  does  Positive 
science,  in  its  most  mature  and  perfect  form,  claim  to  do  more 
than  "to  study  actual  phenomena  in  their  orders  of  resem- 
blance, coexistence,  and  succession." 

Cerebral  organization  may  furnish  plausible  analogies  in  fa- 
vor of  some  theory  of  human  development,  but  certainly  not 
the  one  proposed  by  Aug.  Comte.  The  attempt,  however,  to 
construct  a  chart  of  human  history  on  such  an  d  priori  meth- 
od,— to  construct  an  ideal  framework  into  which  human  na- 
ture must  necessarily  grow,  is  a  violation  of  the  first  and  most 
fundamental  principle  of  the  Positive  science,  which  demands 
that  we  shall  confine  ourselves  strictly  to  the  study  of  actual 


6o  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

phenomena  in  their  orders  of  resemblance,  coexistence,  and 
succession.  The  history  of  the  human  race  must  be  based  on 
facts,  not  on  hypotheses,  and  the  facts  must  be  ascertained  by 
the  study  of  ancient  records  and  existing  monuments  of  the 
past.  Mere  plausible  analogies  and  d  priori  theories  based 
upon  them,  are  only  fitted  to  mislead  the  mind ;  they  insert  a 
prism  between  the  perceiving  mind  and  the  course  of  events 
which  decomposes  the  pure  white  light  of  fact,  and  throws  a 
false  light  over  the  entire  field  of  history. 

2.  The  second  order  of  proof  is  attempted  to  be  drawn  from  the 
analogies  of  individual  experience. 

It  is  claimed  that  the  history  of  the  race  is  the  same  as  that 
of  each  individual  mind ;  and  it  is  affirmed  that  man  is  religious 
in  infancy,  metaphysical  in  youth,  and  positive^  that  is,  scientific 
without  being  religious,  in  mature  manhood  \  the  history  of  the 
race  must  therefore  have  followed  the  same  order. 

We  are  under  no  necessity  of  denying  that  there  is  some 
analogy  between  the  development  of  mind  in  the  individual 
man,  and  in  humanity  as  a  whole,  in  order  to  refute  the  theory 
of  Comte.  Still,  it  must  not  be  overlooked  that  the  develop- 
ment of  mind,  in  all  cases  and  in  all  ages,  is  materially  afiected 
by  exterior  conditions.  The  influence  of  geographical  and  cli- 
matic conditions,  of  social  and  national  institutions,  and  espe- 
cially of  education,  however  difficult  to  be  estimated,  can  not  be 
utterly  disregarded.  And  whether  all  these  influences  have 
not  been  controllecl,  and  collocated,  and  adjusted  by  a  Supreme 
Mind  in  the  education  of  humanity,  is  also  a  question  which 
can  not  be  pushed  aside  as  of  no  consequence.  Now,  unless  it 
can  be. shown  that  the  same  outward  conditions  which  have  ac- 
companied the  individual  and  modified  his  mental  development, 
have  been  repeated  in  the  history  of  the  race,  and  repeated  in 
the  same  order  of  succession,  the  argument  has  no  value. 

But,  even  supposing  it  could  be  shown  that  the  development 
of  mind  in  humanity  has  followed  the  same  order  as  that  of  the 
individual,  we  confidently  affirm  that  Comte  has  not  given  the 
true  history  of  the  development  of  the  individual  mind.     The 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  6 1 

account  he  has  given  may  perhaps  be  the  history  of  his  own 
mental  progress,  but  it  certainly  is  not  the  history  of  every  in- 
dividual mind,  nor  indeed,  of  a  majority  even,  of  educated 
minds  that  have  arrived  at  maturity.  It  would  be  much  more 
in  harmony  with  facts  to  say  childhood  is  the  period  of  pure 
receptivity,  youth  of  doubt  and  skepticism,  and  maturity  of  well- 
grounded  and  rational  belief.  In  the  ripeness  and  maturity  of 
the  nineteenth  century  the  number  of  scientific  men  of  the 
Comtean  model  is  exceedingly  small  compared  with  the  num- 
ber of  religious  men.  There  are  minds  in  every  part  of  Europe 
and  America  as  thoroughly  scientific  as  that  of  Comte,  and  as 
deeply  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  the  Inductive  Philosophy,  which 
are  not  conscious  of  any  discordance  between  the  facts  of  sci- 
ence and  the  fundamental  principles  of  theology.  It  may  be 
that,  in  his  own  immediate  circle  at  Paris  there  may  be  a  tend- 
ency to  Atheism,  but  certainly  no  such  tendency  exists  in  the 
most  scientific  minds  of  Europe  and  America.  The  faith  of  Ba- 
con, and  Newton,  and  Boyle,  of  Descartes,  Leibnitz,  and  Pascal, 
in  regard  to  the  fundamental  principles  of  theology,  is  still  the 
faith  of  Sedgwick,  Whewell,  Herschel,  Brewster,  Owen,  Agassiz, 
Silliman,  Mitchell,  Hitchcock,  Dana,  and,  indeed  of  the  lead- 
ing scientific  minds  of  the  world  —  the  men  who,  as  Comte 
would  say,  "  belong  to  the  elite  of  humanity."  The  mature 
mind,  whether  of  the  individual  or  the  race,  is  not  Atheistical. 

3.  The  third  proof  is  drawn  from  a  survey  of  the  history  of  cer- 
tain portions  of  our  race. 

Comte  is  far  from  being  assured  that  the  progress  of  hu- 
manity, under  the  operation  of  his  grand  law  of  development, 
has  been  uniform  and  invariable.  The  majority  of  the  human 
race,  the  vast  populations  of  India,  China,  and  Japan,  have  re- 
mained stationary ;  they  are  still  in  the  Theological  stage,  and 
consequently  furnish  no  evidence  in  support  of  his  theory.  For 
this  reason  he  confines  himself  to  the  "  elite  "  or  advance-guard 
of  humanity,  and  in  this  way  makes  the  history  of  humanity  a 
very  "  abstract  history  "  indeed.  Starting  with  Greece  as  the 
representative  of  ancient  civilization,  passing  thence  to  Roman 


62  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

civilization,  and  onward  to  Western  Europe,  he  attempts-  to 
show  that  the  actual  progress  of  humanity  has  been,  on  the 
whole,  in  conformity  with  his  law.  To  secure,  however,  even 
this  semblance  of  harmony  between  the  facts  of  history  and  his 
hypothetical  law,  he  has  to  treat  the  facts  very  much  as  Pro- 
crustes treated  his  victims, — he  must  stretch  some,  and  muti- 
late others,  so  as  to  make  their  forms  fit  the  iron  bed.  The 
natural  organization  of  European  civilization  is  distorted  and 
torn  asunder.  "As  the  third  or  positive  stage  had  accom- 
plished its  advent  in  his  own  person,  it  was  necessary  to  find 
the  metaphysical  period  just  before ;  and  so  the  whole  life  of 
the  Reformed  Christianity,  in  embryo  and  in  manifest  exist- 
ence, is  stripped  of  its  garb  oi faith,  and  turned  out  of  view  as 
a  naked  metaphysical  phenomenon.  But  metaphysics,  again, 
have  to  be  ushered  in  by  theology ;  and  of  the  three  stages  of 
theology  Monotheism  is  the  last,  necessarily  following  on  Poly- 
theism, as  that,  again,  on  Fetichism.  There  is  nothing  for  it, 
therefore,  but  to  let  the  mediaeval  Catholic  Christianity  stand 
as  the  world's  first  monotheism,  and  to  treat  it  as  the  legitimate 
offspring  and  necessary  development  of  the  Greek  and  Roman 
polytheism.  This,  accordingly,  Comte  actually  does.  Prot- 
estantism he  illegitimates,  and  outlaws  from  religion  altogether, 
and  the  genuine  Christianity  he  fathers  upon  the  faith  of  Ho- 
mer and  the  Scipios  !  Once  or  twice,  indeed,  it  seems  to  cross 
him  that  there  was  such  a  people  as  the  Hebrews,  and  that 
they  were  not  the  polytheists  they  ought  to  have  been.  He 
sees  the  fact,  but  pushes  it  out  of  his  way  with  the  remark  that 
the  Jewish  monotheism  was  *  premature.'  "^ 

The  signal  defect  of  Comte's  historical  survey,  however,  is, 
that  it  furnishes  no  evidence  of  the  general  prevalence  of  Fet- 
ichism in  primitive  times.  The  writings  of  Moses  are  certainly 
entitled  to  as  much  consideration  and  credence  as  the  writings 
of  Berosus,  Manetho,  and  Herodotus  ;  and,  it  will  not  be  denied, 
they  teach  that  the  faith  of  the  earliest  families  and  races  of 
men  was  monotheistic.  The  early  Vedas,  the  Institutes  of  Menu, 
^  Martineau's  Essays,  pp.  6i,  62. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  63 

the  writings  of  Confucius,  the  Zendavesta,  all  bear  testimony 
that  the  ancient  faith  of  India,  China,  and  Persia,  was,  at  any 
rate,  pantheistic ;  and  learned  and  trustworthy  critics,  Asiatic 
as  well  as  European,  confidently  affirm  that  the  ground  of  the 
Brahminical,  Buddhist,  and  Parsist  faith  is  monotheistic ;  and 
that  one  Being  is  assumed,  in  the  earliest  books,  to  be  the 
origin  of  all  things.^  Without  evidence,  Comte  assumes  that 
the  savage  state  is  the  original  condition  of  man  j  and  instead 
of  going  to  Asia,  the  cradle  of  the  race,  for  some  light  as  10  the 
early  condition  and  opinions  of  the  remotest  families  of  men, 
he  turns  to  Africa,  the  soudan  of  the  earth,  for  his  illustration 
of  the  habit  of  man,  in  the  infancy  of  our  race,  to  endow  every 
object  in  nature,  whether  organic  or  inorganic,  with  life  and  in- 
telligence. The  theory  of  a  primitive  state  of  ignorance  and 
barbarism  is  a  mere  assumption — an  hypothesis  in  conflict  with 
the  traditionary  legends  of  all  nations,  the  earliest  records  of 
our  race,  and  the  unanimous  voice  of  antiquity,  which  attest  the 
general  belief  in  a  primitive  state  of  light  and  innocence. 

The  three  stages  of  development  which  Comte  describes  as 
necessarily  successive,  have,  for  centuries  past,  been  simultane- 
ous. The  theological,  the  metaphysical,  and  the  scientific  ele- 
ments coexist  now,  and  there  is  no  real,  radical,  or  necessary 
conflict  between  them.  Theological  and  metaphysical  ideas 
hold  their  ground  as  securely  under  the  influence  of  enlarged 
scientific  discovery  as  before ;  and  there  is  no  reason  to  sup- 
pose they  ever  had  more  power  over  the  mind  of  man  than  they 
have  to-day.  The  notion  that  God  is  dethroned  by  the  wonder- 
ful discoveries  of  modern  science,  and  theology  is  dead,  is  the 
dream  of  the  ^^profond  orage  cerebraV  which  interrupted  the 
course  of  Comte's  lectures  in  1826.  As -easily  may  the  hand 
of  Positivism  arrest  the  course  of  the  sun,  as  prevent  the  in- 
stinctive thought  of  human  reason  recognizing  and  affirming 
the  existence  of  a  God.  And  so  long  as  ever  the  human  mind 
is  governed  by  necessary  laws  of  thought,  so  long  will  it  seek 

^  "  The  Religions  of  the  World  in  their  Relation  to  Christianity  "  (Mau- 
rice, ch.  ii.,  iii.,  iv.). 


64  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

to  pass  beyond  the  limits  of  mere  phenomena,  and  inquire  after 
the  real  Being  which  is  the  ground,  and  reason,  and  cause  of 
all  that  appears.  The  heart  of  man,  also,  demands  a  religion. 
Its  longings  can  never  be  satisfied  by  the  generalizations  of 
science,  however  grand  and  imposing.  Even  Comte  felt  the 
unutterable  yearnings  of  the  religious  sentiments,  and  the  ne- 
cessity that  his  philosophy  should  afford  them  some  satisfac- 
tion. He  suddenly  discovers  that  his  mission  is  to  re-organize 
entirely  the  whole  of  human  society,  on  the  principle  of  giv- 
ing ascendency  to  the  heart  over  the  understanding.  He  pro- 
claims himself  as  the  founder  of  a  new,  final,  and  universal 
worship,  and  "  the  High-Priest  of  the  Religion  of  Humanity." 
This  new  religion  he  develops  in  his  "  Catechism  of  Positive  Re- 
ligion'^ Having  superseded  "monotheism,"  he  finds  it  neces- 
sary to  invent  a  "  new  Supreme  Being ;"  and  such  a  being  he 
has  accordingly  provided,  and  ordered  to  be  represented  in 
statuary  by  "  a  woman  of  thirty,  with  a  child  in  her  arms."  This 
"  Grand-Etre "  is  the  sum-total  of  the  civilized  or  progressive 
part  of  our  race.  Thus  the  worship  of  humanity  is  to  displace 
the  worship  of  God.  The  deification  of  mortals  is  to  supply  the 
place  of  "the  King  immortal,  eternal,  invisible."  This  new  re- 
ligion "  has  its  cultus,  private  and  public ;  its  organization  of 
dogma,  its  discipline  penetrating  the  whole  of  life ;  its  altars, 
its  temples,  its  symbolism,  its  prescribed  gestures  and  times ; 
its  ratios  and  length  of  prayers  ;  its  rules  for  opening  or  shutting 
the  eyes ;  its  ecclesiastical  courts  and  canonizations ;  its  orders 
of  priesthood  and  scale  of  benefices ;  its  novitiate  and  conse- 
cration ;  its  nine  sacraments,  its  angels,  its  last  judgment,  its 
paradise  ;  in  short,  all  imaginable  requisites  of  a  religion — ex- 
cept a  God."' 

This  first  hypothesis  is  clearly  inadequate.  To  secure  any 
appearance  of  plausibility,  it  is  compelled  to  pervert  and  misin- 
terpret the  facts  of  religious  history.  And,  whilst  constrained 
to  do  homage  to  the  religious  sentiment,  and  provide  for  its 
gratification,  it  fails  to  comprehend  its  true  import  and  grand- 
^  Martineau's  Essays,  p.  20. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


6S 


eur,  and  consequently  to  develop  its  true  philosophy.  Its  fun- 
damental error  is  the  assumption  that  all  our  knowledge  is  con- 
fined to  the  observation  and  classification  of  sensible  phenom- 
ena— that  is,  to  changes  perceptible  by  the  senses.  Psychology, 
based,  as  it  is,  upon  self-observation  and  self-reflection,  is  a 
"  mere  illusion ;  and  logic  and  ethics,  so  far  as  they  are  built 
upon  it  as  their  foundation,  are  altogether  baseless."  Spiritual 
entities,  forces,  causes,  efficient  or  final,  are  unknown  and  un- 
knowable ;  all  inquiry  regarding  them  must  be  inhibited,  "  for 
Theology  is  inevitable  if  we  permit  the  inquiry  into  causes  at 
all." 

II.  The  second  hypothesis  offered  in  explanation  of  the  facts 
of  religious  history  is,  fAaf  religion  is  part  of  that  process  or  ev- 
olution OF  THE  ABSOLUTE  (/.  ^.,  the  Deity)  which^  gradually  un- 
folding itself  in  nature,  mind,  history,  and  religion,  attains  to  the 
fullest  self-consciousness  in  philosophy. 

This  is  the  theory  of  Hegel,  in  whose  system  of  philosophy 
the  subjective  idealism  of  Kant  culminates  in  the  doctrine  of 
^^ Absolute  Identity^  Its  fundamental  position  is  that  thought 
and  being,  subject  and  object,  the  perceiving  mind  and  the 
thing  perceived,  are  ultimately  and  essentially  one,  and  that  the 
only  actual  reality  is  that  which  results  from  their  mutual  rela- 
tion. The  outward  thing  is  nothing,  the  inward  perception  is 
nothing,  for  neither  could  exist  alone ;  the  only  reality  is  the 
relation,  or  rather  synthesis  of  the  two  ;  the  essence  or  nature 
of  being  in  itself  accordingly  consists  in  the  coexistence  of  two 
contrarieties.  Ideas,  arising  from  the  union  or  synthesis  of  two 
opposites,  are  therefore  the  concrete  realities  of  Hegel ;  and  the 
process  of  the  evolution  of  ideas,  in  the  human  mind,  is  the  proc- 
ess of  all  existence — the  Absolute  Idea, 

The  Absolute  (die  Idee)  thus  forms  the  beginning,  middle,  and 
end  of  the  system  of  Hegel.  It  is  the  one  infinite  existence  or 
thought,  of  which  nature,  mind,  history,  religion,  and  philoso- 
phy, are  the  manifestation.  "  The  absolute  is,  with  him,  not  the 
infinite  substance,  as  with  Spinoza ;  nor  the  infinite  subject,  as 

5 


66  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

with  Fichte ;  nor  the  infinite  mind,  as  with  Schelling ;  it  is  a 
perpetual  process,  an  eternal  thinking,  without  beginning  and 
without  end."'  This  living,  eternal  process  of  absolute  existence, 
is  the  God  of  Hegel. 

It  will  thus  be  seen  that  the  Absolute  is,  with  Hegel,  the  sum 
of  all  actual  and  possible  existence  ;  "  nothing  is  true  and  real 
except  so  far  as  it  forms  an  element  of  the  Absolute  Spirit.'"' 
"  What  kind  of  an  Absolute  Being,"  he  asks,  "  is  that  which 
does  not  contain  in  itself  all  that  is  actual,  even  evil  included  ?"' 
The  Absolute,  therefore,  in  Hegel's  conception,  does  not  allow 
of  any  existence  out  of  itself  It  is  the  unity  of  the  finite  and 
the  infinite,  the  eternal  and  the  temporal,  the  ideal  and  the  real, 
the  subject  and  the  object.  And  it  is  not  only  the  unity  of 
these  opposites  so  as  to  exclude  all  difference,  but  it  contains, 
in  itself,  all  the  differences  and  opposites  as  elements  of  its  be- 
ing ;  otherwise  the  distinctions  would  stand  over  against  the 
absolute  as  a  limit,  and  the  absolute  would  cease  to  be  abso- 
lute. 

God  is,  therefore,  according  to  Hegel,  "  no  motionless,  eter- 
nally self-identical  and  unchangeable  being,  but  a  living,  eternal 
process  of  absolute  self-existence.  This  process  consists  in  the 
eternal  self-distinction,  or  antithesis,  and  equally  self-reconcilia- 
tion or  synthesis  of  those  opposites  which  enter,  as  necessary 
elements,  into  the  constitution  of  the  Divine  Being.  This  self- 
evolution,  whereby  the  absolute  enters  into  antithesis,  and  re- 
turns to  itself  again,  is  the  eternal  self  actualization  of  its  being, 

and  which  at  once  constitutes  the  beginning,  middle,  and 

end,  as  in  the  circle,  where  the  beginning  is  at  the  same  time  the 
end,  and  the  end  the  beginning."* 

The  whole  philosophy  of  Hegel  consists  in  the  development 
of  this  idea  of  God  by  means  of  his,  so-called,  dialectic  method, 
which  reflects  the  objective  life-process  of  the  Absolute,  and  is, 
in  fact,  identical  with  it ;  for  God,  says  he,  "  is  only  the  Abso- 

»  Morell,  "  Hist,  of  Philos.,  p.  461." 

^  **  Philos.  of  Religion,"  p.  204.  ^  Ibid.,  chap.  xi.  p.  24. 

*  Herzog's  Real-Encyc,  art.  "  Hegelian  Philos.,"  by  Ulrici. 


LI 


or  THE  '^ 

aSEEK  FIIILOSOFHTjljj^-^-^  E  BfS  I  T  "^ 

lute  Intelligence  in  so  far  as  he  knows  himsSk^JbpJlj^^^iscvf'x V 
lute  Intelligence,  and  this  he  knows  only  in  J^^^ifel^'dialfectics],  * 
and  this  knowledge  alone  constitutes  his  true  existence^^  This 
life-process  of  the  Absolute  has  three  "  moments."  It  may  be 
considered  as  the  idea  in  itself— hdJQ^  naked,  undetermined,  un- 
conscious idea ;  as  the  idea  out  of  itself  in  its  objective  form, 
or  in  its  differentiation  ;  and,  finally,  as  the  idea  in  itself  and  for 
itself  in  its  regressive  or  reflective  form.  This  movement  of 
thought  gives,  first,  bare,  naked,  indeterminate  thought,  or 
thought  in  the  mere  antithesis  of  Being  and  non-Being ;  second- 
ly, thought  externalizing  itself  in  nature  j  and,  thirdly,  thought 
returning  to  itself,  and  knowing  itself  in  mind,  or  consciousness. 
Philosophy  has,  accordingly,  three  corresponding  divisions : — 
I.  LOGIC,  which  here  is  identical  with  metaphysics  j  2.  philos- 
ophy OF  NATURE  ;  3.  PHILOSOPHY  OF  MIND. 

It  is  beyond  our  design  to  present  an  expanded  view  of  the 
entire  philosophy  of  Hegel.  But  as  he  has  given  to  the  world 
a  new  logic,  it  may  be  needful  to  glance  at  its  general  features 
as  a  help  to  the  comprehension  of  his  philosophy  of  religion. 
The  fundamental  law  of  his  logic  is  the  identity  of  contraries  or 
contradictions.  All  thought  is  a  synthesis  of  contraries  or  oppo- 
sites.  This  antithesis  not  only  exists  in  all  ideas,  but  consti- 
tutes them.  In  every  idea  we  form,  there  must  be  two  things 
opposed  and  distinguished,  in  order  to  afford  a  clear  concep- 
tion. Light  can  not  be  conceived  but  as  the  opposite  of  dark- 
ness ;  good  can  not  be  thought  except  in  opposition  to  evil. 
All  life,  all  reality  is  thus,  essentially,  the  union  of  two  elements, 
which,  together,  are  mutually  opposed  to,  and  yet  imply  each 
other. 

The  identity  of  Being  and  Nothing  is  one  of  the  consequen- 
ces of  this  law. 

1.  The  Absolute  is  the  Being  (das  Absolute  ist  das  Seyn),  and 
"  the  Being  "  is  here,  according  to  Hegel,  bare,  naked,  abstract, 
undistinguished,  indeterminate,  unconscious  idea. 

2.  The  Absolute  is  the  Nothing  (das  Absolute  ist  das  Nichts). 

^  "  Hist,  of  Philos.,"  iii.  p.  399. 


68  CHMISTIANITT  AND 

"  Pure  being  is  pure  abstraction,  and  consequently  the  abso- 
lute-negative, which  in  like  manner,  directly  taken,  is  nothing^ 
Being  and  Nothing  are  the  positive  and  negative  poles  of  the 
Idea,  that  is,  the  Absolute.  They  both  alike  exist,  they  are 
both  pure  abstractions,  both  absolutely  unconditioned,  without 
attributes,  and  without  consciousness.  Hence  follows  the  con- 
clusion— 

3.  Being  and  Nothing  are  identical  {6i2iS  Seyn  und  das  Nichts 
ist  dasselbe).  Being  is  non-Being.  Non-Being  is  Being — the  An- 
ders-seyn — which  becomes  as  Being  to  the  Seyn.  Nothing  is, 
in  some  sense,  an  actual  thing. 

Being  and  Nothing  are  thus  the  two  elements  which  enter 
into  the  one  Absolute  Idea  as  contradictories,  and  both  togeth- 
er combine  to  form  a  complete  notion  of  bare  production,  or 
the  beco7ning  of  something  out  of  nothing, — the  unfolding  of  real 
existence  in  its  lowest  form,  that  is,  of  nature. 

The  "  Philosophy  of  Nature  "  exhibits  a  series  of  necessary 
movements  which  carry  the  idea  forward  in  the  ascending  scale 
of  sensible  existence.  The  laws  of  mechanics,  chemistry,  and 
physiology  are  resolved  into  a  series  of  oppositions.  But  the 
law  which  governs  this  development  requires  the  self-reconcilia- 
tion of  these  opposites.  The  idea,  therefore,  which  in  nature 
was  unconscious  and  ignorant  of  itself,  returns  upon  itself,  and 
becomes  conscious  of  itself,  that  is,  becomes  mind.  The  science 
of  the  regression  or  self-reflection  of  the  idea,  is  the  ^^  Philosophy 
of  Mind:' 

The  ^'■Philosophy  of  Mind''  is  subdivided  by  Hegel  into 
three  parts.  There  is,  first,  the  subjective  or  individual  mind 
{psychology) ;  then  the  objective  or  universal  mind,  as  represent- 
ed in  society,  the  state,  and  in  history  (ethics,  political  philoso- 
phy, ox  jurisprudence,  zxidi  philosophy  of  history) ;  and,  finally,  the 
union  of  the  subjective  and  (Objective  mind,  or  the  absolute  miiid. 
This  last  manifests  itself  again  under  three  forms,  representing 
the  three  degrees  of  the  self-consciousness  of  the  Spirit,  as  the 
eternal  truth.  These  are,  first,  art,  or  the  representation  of 
beauty  (aesthetics) ;  secondly,  religion,  in  the  general  acceptation 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  69 

of  the  term  (philosophy  of  religion) ;  and,  thirdly, philosophy  it- 
self, as  the  purest  and  most  perfect  form  of  the  scientific  knowl- 
edge of  truth.  All  historical  religions,  the  Oriental,  the  Jew- 
ish, the  Greek,  the  Roman,  and  the  Christian,  are  the  successive 
stages  in  the  developmefit  or  self -actualization  of  God} 

It  is  unnecessary  to  indicate  to  the  reader  that  the  philoso- 
phy of  Hegel  is  essentially  pantheistic.  "  God  is  not  a  person, 
but  personality  itself,  /.  e.,  the  universal  personality,  which  real- 
izes itself  in  every  human  consciousness,  as  so  many  separate 
thoughts  of  one  eternal  mind.  The  idea  we  form  of  the  abso- 
lute is,  to  Hegel,  the  absolute  itself,  its  essential  existence  be- 
ing identical  with  our  conception  of  it.  Apart  from,  and  out 
of  the  world,  there  is  no  God  ;  and  so  also,  apart  from  the  uni- 
versal consciousness  of  man^  there  is  no  Divine  consciousness 
or  personality.'"^ 

This  whole  conception  of  religion,  however,  is  false,  and  con- 
flicts with  the  actual  facts  of  man's  religious  nature  and  relig- 
ious history.  If  the  word  "  religion  "  has  any  meaning  at  all, 
it  is  "  a  mode  of  life  determined  by  the  consciousness  of  de- 
pendence upon,  and  obligation  to  God."  It  is  reverence  for, 
gratitude  to,  and  worship  of  God  as  a  being  distinct  from  hu- 
manity. But  in  the  philosophy  of  Hegel  religion  is  a  part  of 
God — a  stage  in  the  developrnent  or  self-actualization  of  God. 
Viewed  under  one  aspect,  religion  is  the  self-adoration  of  God 
— the  worship  of  God  by  God  ;  under  another  aspect  it  is  the 
worship  of  humanity,  since  God  only  becomes  conscious  of 
himself  in  humanity.  The  fundamental  fallacy  is  that  upon 
which  his  entire  method  proceeds,  viz.,  "the  identity  of  subject 
and  object,  being  and  thought."  Against  this  false  position  the 
consciousness  of  each  individual  man,  and  the  universal  con- 
sciousness of  our  race,  as  revealed  in  history,  alike  protest.  If 
thought  and  being  are  identical,  then  whatever  is  true  of  ideas 
is  also  true  of  objects,  and  then,  as  Kant  had  before  remarked, 

^  See  art.  "  Hegelian  Philosophy,"  in  Herzog's  Real-Encyc,  from  whence 
our  materials  are  chiefly  drawn. 

=*  Morell,  "  Hist,  of  Philos.,"  p.  473. 


70  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

there  is  no  difference  between  thinking  we  possess  a  hundred 
dollars,  and  TioX.M'dJ^'j possessing  them.  Such  absurdities  may  be 
rendered  plausible  by  a  logic  which  asserts  the  "identity  of 
contradictions,"  but  against  such  logic  common  sense  rebels. 
"  The  law  of  non-contradiction  "  has  been  accepted  by  all  logi- 
cians, from  the  days  of  Aristotle,  as  a  fundamental  law  of 
thought.  *'  Whatever  is  contradictory  is  unthinkable.  A=not 
A=0,  or  A— A=0."*  Non-existence  can  not  exist.  Being 
can  not  be  nothing. 


to- 


rn. The  third  hypothesis  affirms  that  the  phenomenon  of  re- 
ligion has  its  foundation  in  feeling — the  feeling  of  depe?idence  a?td 
of  obligation ;  and  that  to  which  the  mind,  by  spontaneous  in- 
tuition or  instinctive  faith,  trace§  that  dependence  and  obliga- 
tion we  call  God. 

This,  with  some  slight  modification  in  each  case,  consequent 
upon  the  differences  in  their  philosophic  systems,  is  the  theory 
of  Jacobi,  Schleiermacher,  Nitzsch,  Mansel,  and  probably  Ham- 
ilton. Its  fundamental  position  is,  that  we  can  not  gain  truth 
with  absolute  certainty  either  from  sense  or  reason,  and,  con- 
sequently, the  only  valid  source  of  real  knowledge  is  feeling — 
faith,  intuition,  or,  as  it  is  called  by  som^,  inspiration. 

There  have  been  those,  in  all  ages,  who  have  made  all 
knowledge  of  invisible,  supersensuous,  divine  things,  to  rest 
upon  an  internal  feeling,  or  immediate,  inward  vision.  The 
Oriental  Mystics,  the  Neo-Platonists,  the  Mystics  of  the  Greek 
and  Latin  Church,  the  German  Mystics  of  the  14th  century,  the 
Theosophists  of  the  Reformation,  the  Quietists  of  France,  the 
Quakers,  have  all  appealed  to  some  special  faculty,  distinct 
from  the  understanding  and  reason,  for  the  immediate  cogni- 
tion of  invisible  and  spiritual  existences.  By  some,  that 
special  faculty  was  regarded  as  an  "  interior  eye  "  which  was 
illuminated  by  the  "  Universal  Light ;"  by  others,  as  a  peculiar 
sensibility  of  the  soul — a  feeling  in  whose  perfect  calm  and  ut- 
ter quiescence  the  Divinity  was  mirrored ;  or  which,  in  an  ec- 
^  Hamilton's  Logic,  p.  58. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


71 


Static  state,  rose  to  a  communion  with,  and  final  absorption  in 
the  Infinite. 

Jacobi  was  the  first,  in  modern  times,  to  give  the  "faith- 
philosophy,"  as  it  is  now  designated,  a  definite  form.  He  as- 
sumes the  position  that  all  knowledge,  of  whatever  kind,  must 
ultimately  rest  upon  intuition  or  faith.  As  it  regards  sensible 
objects,  the  understanding  finds  the  impression  from  which  all 
our  knowledge  of  the  external  flows,  ready  formed.  The  proc- 
ess of  sensation  is  a  mystery ;  we  know  nothing  of  it  until  it  is 
past,  and  the  feeling  it  produces  is  present.  Our  knowledge  of* 
matter,  therefore,  rests  upon  faith  in  these  intuitions.  We  can 
not  doubt  that  the  feeling  has  an  objective  cause.  In  every  act 
of  perception  there  is  something  actual  and  present,  which  can 
not  be  referred  to  a  mere  subjective  law  of  thought.  We  are 
also  conscious  of  another  class  of  feelings  which  correlate  us 
with  a  supersensuous  world,  and  these  feeUngs,  also,  must  have 
their  cause  in  some  objective  reality.  Just  as  sensation  gives 
us  an  immediate  knowledge  of  an  external  world,  so  there  is  an 
internal  sense  which  gives  us  an  immediate  knowledge  of  a  spir- 
itual world — God,  the  soul,  freedom,  immortality.  Our  knowl- 
edge of  the  invisible  world,  like  our  knowledge  of  the  visible 
world,  is  grounded  upon  faith  in  our  intuitions.  All  philosoph- 
ic knowledge  is  thus  based  upon  belief,  which  Jacobi  regards  as 
a  fact  of  our  inward  sensibility — a  sort  of  knowledge  produced 
by  an  immediate  feeling  of  the  soul  —  a  direct  apprehension, 
without  proof,  of  the  True,  the  Supersensuous,  the  Eternal. 

Jacobi  prepared  the  way  for,  and  was  soon  eclipsed  by  the 
deservedly  greater  name  of  Schleiermacher.  His  fundamental 
position  was  that  truth  in  Theology  could  not  be  obtained  by  rea- 
son, but  by  a  feeling,  insight,  or  intuition,  which  in  its  lowest  form 
he  called  God-conscious7iess,  and  in  its  highest  form,  Christian- 
consciousness.  The  God-consciousness,  in  its  original  form,  is 
the  feeling  of  dependence  on  the  Infinite.  The  Christian  con- 
sciousness is  the  perfect  union  of  the  human  consciousness  with 
the  Divine,  through  the  mediation  of  Christ,  or  what  we  would 
call  a  Christian  experience  of  communion  with  God. 


72  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

Rightly  to  understand  the  position  of  Schleiermacher  we 
must  take  account  of  his  doctrine  of  ^^^consciousness.  "  In 
all  self-consciousness,"  says  he,  "  there  are  two  elements,  a  Be- 
ing (ein  Seyn)  and  a  Somehow-having-become  (Irgendweige- 
wordenseyn).  The  last,  however,  presupposes,  for  every  self- 
consciousness,  besides  the  ego,  yet  something  else  from  whence 
the  certainty  of  the  same  [self-consciousness]  exists,  and  with- 
out which  self-consciousness  would  not  be  just  this."^  Every 
determinate  mode  of  the  sensibility  supposes  an  object,  and  a  re- 
lation between  the  subject  and  the  object,  the  subjective  feeling 
deriving  its  determinations  from  the  object.  External  sensa- 
tion, the  feeling,  say  of  extension  and  resistance,  gives  world- 
consciousness.  Internal  sensation,  the  feeling  of  dependence, 
gives  God-consciousness.  And  it  is  only  by  the  presence  of 
world-consciousness  and  God-consciousness  that  self-conscious- 
ness can  be  what  it  is. 

We  have,  then,  in  our  self-consciousness  2.  feeling  of  direct  de- 
pendence, and  that  to  which  our  minds  instinctively  trace  that 
dependence  we  call  God.  ."  By  means  of  the  religious  feeling, 
the  Primal  Cause  is  revealed  in  us,  as  in  perception,  the  things 
[external]  are  revealed  in  us.'"  Tho:  felt,  therefore,  is  not  only 
the  first  religious  sense,  but  the  ruling,  abiding,  and  perfect  form 
of  the  religious  spirit ;  whatever  lays  any  claim  to  religion  must 
maintain  its  ground  and  principle  in  feeling,  upon  which  it  de- 
pends for  its  development ;  and  the  sum-total  of  the  forces  con- 
stituting religious  life,  inasmuch  as  it  is  a  life,  is  based  upon 
immediate  self-consciousness.^ 

The  doctrine  of  Schleiermacher  is  somewhat  modified  by 
Mansel,  in  his  ^^  Li?nits  of  Religious  Thought"  He  maintains, 
with  Schleiermacher,  that  religion  is  grounded  in  feeling,  and 
that  the  felt  is  the  first  intimation  or  presentiment  of  the  Di- 
vine. Man  "feels  within  him  the  consciousness  of  a  Supreme 
Being,  and  the  instinct  to  worship,  before  he  can  argue  from 
effects  to  causes,  or  estimate  the  traces  of  wisdom  and  benevo- 

^  Glaubenslehre,  ch.  i.  §  4.  '  Dialectic,  p.  430. 

'  Nitzsch,  "  System  of  Doctrine,"  p.  23. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  73 

lence  scattered  through  the  creation."^  He  also  agrees  with 
Schleiermacher  in  regarding  the  feeling  of  dependence  as  a  state 
of  the  sensibiUty,  out  of  which  reflection  builds  up  the  edifice 
of  Religious  Consciousness,  but  he  does  not,  with  Schleier- 
macher, regard  it  as  pre-eminently  the  basis  of  religious  con- 
sciousness. "The  mere  consciousness  of  dependence  does 
not,  of  itself,  exhibit  the  character  of  the  Being  on  whom  we 
depend.  It  is  as  consistent  with  superstition  as  with  religion  \ 
with  the  belief  in  a  malevolent,  as  in  a  benevolent  Deity.'" 
To  the  feeling  of  dependence  he  has  added  the  consciousness 
of  moral  obligation^  which  he  imagines  supplies  the  deficiency. 
By  this  consciousness  of  moral  obligation  "  we  are  compelled 
to  assume  the  existence  of  a  moral  Deity,  and  to  regard  the 
absolute  standard  of  right  and  wrong  as  constituted  by  the 
nature  of  that  Deity. "^  "To  these  two  facts  of  the  inner  con- 
sciousness (the  feeling  of  dependence,  and  consciousness  of 
moral  obligation)  may  be  traced,  as  to  their  sources,  the  two 
great  outward  acts  by  which  religion,  in  its  various  forms,  has 
been  manifested  among  men — Prayer,  by  which  they  seek  to 
win  God's  blessing  upon  the  future,  and  Expiation,  by  which 
they  strive  to  atone  for  the  offenses  of  the  past.  The  feeling 
of  dependence  is  the  instinct  which  urges  us  to  pray.  It  is  the 
feeling  that  our  existence  and  welfare  are  in  the  hands  of  a  su- 
perior power ;  not  an  inexorable  fate,  not  an  immutable  law ; 
but  a  Being  having  at  least  so  far  the  attribute  of  personality 
that  he  can  show  favor  or  severity  to  those  who  are  dependent 
upon  Him,  and  can  be  regarded  by  them  with  feelings  of  hope 
and  fear,  and  reverence  and  gratitude."*  The  feeling  of  moral 
obligation — "the  law  written  in  the  heart" — leads  man  to  rec- 
ognize a  Lawgiver.  "  Man  can  be  a  law  unto  himself  only  on- 
the  supposition  that  he  reflects  in  himself  the  law  of  God."* 
The  conclusion  from  the  whole  is,  there  must  be  an  object  an- 
swering to  this  consciousness  :  there  must  be  a  God  to  explain 
these  facts  of  the  soul. 

'  Mansel,  "  Limits  of  Religious  Thought,"  p.  1 15.  "^  Id.,  ib.,  p.  120. 

^  Id.,  ib.,  p.  122.  "  Id.,  ib.,  pp.  119,  120.  ^  Id.,  ib.,  p.  122. 


74  CHMISTIANITY  AND 

This  "  philosophy  of  feeling,"  or  of  faith  generated  by  feel- 
ing, has  an  interest  and  a  significance  which  has  not  been  ad- 
equately recognized  by  writers  on  natural  theology.  Feeling, 
sentiment,  enthusiasm,  have  always  played  an  important  part  in 
the  history  of  religion.  Indeed  it  must  be  conceded  that  religion 
is  a  right  state  of  feeling  towards  God — religion  \s  piety.  A  philos- 
ophy of  the  religious  emotion  is,  therefore,  demanded  in  order 
to  the  full  interpretation  of  the  religious  phenomena  of  the  world. 

But  the  notion  that  internal  feeling,  a  peculiar  determination 
of  the  sensibility,  is  the  source  of  religious  ideas  : — that  God 
can  be  known  immediately  by  feeling  without  the  mediation  of 
the  truth  that  manifests  God ;  that  he  can  be  felt  as  the  quali- 
ties of  matter  can  be  felt ;  and  that  this  affection  of  the  inward 
sense  can  reveal  the  character  and  perfections  of  God,  is  an 
unphilosophical  and  groundless  assumption.  To  assert,  with 
Nitzsch,  that  "  feeling  has  reason,  and  is  reason,  and  that  the 
sensible  and  felt  God-consciousness  generates  out  of  itself  fun- 
damental conceptions,"  is  to  confound  the  most  fundamental 
psychological  distinctions,  and  arbitrarily  bend  the  recognized 
classifications  of  mental  science  to  the  necessities  of  a  theory. 
Indeed,  we  are  informed  that  it  is  "  by  means  of  an  indej>ende7it 
psychology,  and  conformably  to  it,"  that  Schleiermacher  illus- 
trates his  "philosopfiy  of  feeling."^  But  all  psychology  must 
be  based  upon  the  observation  and  classification  of  mental 
phenomena,  as  revealed  in  consciousness,  and  not  constructed 
in  an  "  independent "  and  a  priori  method.  The  most  careful 
psychological  analysis  has  resolved  the  whole  complex  phenom- 
ena of  mind  into  thought,  feeling,  and  volition.''  These  orders 
of  phenomena  are  radically  and  essentially  distinct.  They  dif- 
fer not  simply  in  degree  but  in  kind,  and  it  is  only  by  an  utter 
disregard  of  the  facts  of  consciousness  that  they  can  be  con- 
founded. Feeling  is  not  reason,  nor  can  it  by  any  logical  dex- 
terity be  transformed  into  reason. 

*■  Nitzsch,  "  System  of  Doctrine,"  p.  21. 

^  Kant,  " Critique  of  Judg.,"  ch.  xxii.  ;  Cousin,  "Hist,  of  Philos.,"  vol.  ii. 
p.  399  ;  Hamilton,  vol.  i.  p.  183,  Eng.  ed. 


GREEK  FEILOSOPHY.  75 

The  question  as  to  the  relative  order  of  cognition  and  feel- 
ing, that  is,  as  to  whether  feeling  is  the  first  or  original  form  of 
the  religious  consciousness,  or  whether  feeling  be  not  conse- 
quent upon  some  idea  or  cognition  of  God,  is  one  which  can 
not  be  determined  on  empirical  grounds.     We  are  precluded 
from  all  scrutiny  of  the  incipient  stages  of  mental  development 
in  the  individual  mind  and  in  collective  humanity.     If  we  at- 
tempt to  trace  the  early  history  of  the  soul,  its  beginnings  are 
lost  in  a  period  of  blank  unconsciousness,  beyond  all  scrutiny 
of  memory  or  imagination.     If  we  attempt  the  inquiry  on  the 
wider  field  of  universal  consciousness,  the  first  unfoldings  of 
mind  in  humanity  are  lost  in  the  border-land  of  mystery,  of 
which  history  furnishes  no  authentic  records.     All  dogmatic  af- 
firmation must,  therefore,  be  unjustifiable.     The  assertion  that 
religious  feeling  precedes  all  cognition, — that  "  the  conscious- 
ness of  dependence  on  a  Supreme  Being,  and  the  instinct  of 
worship"  are  developed  yfri-/ in  the  mind,  before  the  reason  is 
exercised,  is  utterly  groundless.     The  more  probable  doctrine 
is  that  all  the  primary  faculties  enter  into  spontaneous  action 
simultaneously — the  reason  with  the  senses,  the  feelings  with 
the  reason,  the  judgment  with  both  the  senses  and  the  reason, 
and  that  from  their  primary  and  simultaneous   action  arises 
the  complex  result,  called   consciousness,  or  conjoint  knowl- 
edge.^    There  can.  be  no  clear  and  distinct  consciousness  with- 
out the  cognition  of  a  i-^^and  a  not-self  va  mutual  relation  and 
opposition.     Now  the  knowledge  of  the  self — the  personal  ego 
— is  an  intuition  of  reason  ;  the  knowledge  of  the  not-self  is  an 
intuition  of  sense.     All  knowledge  is  possible  only  under  con- 
dition of  plurality,  difference,  and  relation.'^     Now  the  judgment 
is  "  the  Faculty  of  Relations,"  or  of  comparison  j   and  the  af- 
firmation ''^  this  is  not  that^^  is  an  act  of  judgment ;  to  know  is, 
consequently,  to  judge.^     Self-consciousness  must,  therefore,  be 
regarded  as  a  synthesis  of  sense,  reason,  and  judgment,  and 
not  a  mere  self-feeling  (ccenassthesis). 

'■  Cousin,  "  Hist,  of  PHilos.,"  vol.  i.  p.  357  ;  vol.  ii.  p.  337. 

'  Id,  ib.,  vol.  i.  p.  88.  ^  Hamilton,  "  Metaphys.,"  p.  277. 


76  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

A  profound  analysis  will  further  lead  to  the  conclusion  that 
if  ideas  of  reason  are  not  chronologically  antecedent  to  sensa- 
tion, they  are,  at  least,  the  logical  antecedents  of  all  cognition. 
The  mere  feeling  of  resistance  can  not  give  the  notion  of  body 
without  the  h  priori  idea  of  space.  The  feeling  of  movement, 
of  change,  can  not  give  the  cognition  of  event  without  the  ra- 
tional idea  of  time  or  duration.  Simple  consciousness  can  not 
generate  the  idea  of  personality,  or  selfhood,  without  the  ration- 
al idea  of  identity  or  unity.  And  so  the  mere  "  feeling  of  de-' 
pendence,"  of  finiteness  and  imperfection,  can  not  give  the  idea 
of  God,  without  the  rational  a  priori  idea  of  the  Infinite,  the 
Perfect,  the  Unconditioned  Cause.  Sensation  is  not  knowl- 
edge, and  never  can  become  knowledge,  without  the  interven- 
tion of  reason ;  and  a  concentrated  self-feeling  can  not  rise  es- 
sentially above  animal  life  until  it  has,  through  the  mediation 
of  reason,  attained  the  idea  of  the  existence  of  a  Supreme  Being 
ruling  over  nature  and  man. 

Mere  feeling  is  essentially  blind.  In  li^ pathologicaliovm^  it 
may  indicate  a  want,  and  even  develop  an  unconscious  appe- 
tency, but  it  can  not,  itself,  reveal  an  object,  any  more  than  the 
feeling  of  hunger  can  reveal  the  actual  presence,  or  determine  the 
character  and  fitness,  of  any  food.  An  undefinable  fear,  a  mys- 
terious presentiment,  an  instinctive  yearning,  a  hunger  of  the 
soul,  these  are  all  irrational  emotions  which  can  never  rise  to 
the  dignity  of  knowledge.  An  object  must  be  conjured  by  Ihe 
imagination,  or  conceived  by  the  understanding,  or  intuitively 
apprehended  by  the  reason,  before  the  feeling  can  have  any 
significance. 

Regarded  in  its  moral  form,  as  "  the  feeling  of  obligation,"  it 
can  have  no  real  meaning  unless  a  "  law  of  duty  "  be  known 
and  recognized.  Feeling,  alone,  can  not  reveal  what  duty 
is.  When  that  which  is  right,  and  just,  and  good  is  revealed 
to  the  mind,  then  the  sense  of  obligation  may  urge  man  to 
the  performance  of  duty.  But  the  right,  the  just,  the  good, 
are  ideas  which  are  apprehended  by  the  reason,  and,  conse- 
quently, our  moral  sentiments  are  the  result  of  the  harmoni- 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


77 


ous  and  living  delation  between  the  reason  and  the  sensibili- 
ties. 

Mr.  Mansel  asserts  the  inadequacy  of  Schleiermacher's 
"feeling  of  dependence  "  to  reveal  the  character  of  the  Being 
on  whom  we  depend.  He  has  therefore  supplemented  his  doc- 
trine by  the  "feeling  of  moral  obligation,"  which  he  thinks 
"compels  us  to  assume  the  existence  of  a  moral  Deity."  We 
think  his  "fact  of  religious  intuition"  is  as  inadequate  as 
Schleiermacher's  to  explain  the  whole  phenomena  of  religion. 
In  neither  instance  does  feeling  supply  the  actual  knowledge 
of  God.  The  feeling  of  dependence  may  indicate  that  there  is 
a  Power  or  Being  upon  whom  we  depend  for  existence  and 
well-being,  and  which  Power  or  Being  "  we  call  God."  The 
feeling  of  obligation  certainly  indicates  the  existence  of  a  Being 
to  whom  we  are  accountable,  and  which  Being  Mr.  Mansel 
calls  a  "moral  Deity."  But  in  both  instances  the  character, 
and  even  the  existence  of  God  is  " assumed"  and  we  are  enti- 
tled to  ask  on  what  ground  it  is  assumed.  It  will  not  be  as- 
serted that  feeling  alone  generates  the  idea,  or  that  the  feeling 
is  transformed  into  idea  without  the  intervention  of  thought 
and  reflection.  Is  there,  then,  a  logical  connection  between  the 
feeling  of  dependence  and  of  obligation,  and  the  idea  of  the 
Uncreated  Mind,  the  Infinite  First  Cause,  the  Righteous  Gov- 
ernor of  the  world.  Or  is  there  a  fixed  and  changeless  co-rela- 
tion betwee;!  ihe.feeli?ig  and  the  idea,  so  that  when  the  feeling 
is  present,  the  idea  also  necessarily  arises  in  the  mind  ?  This 
latter  opinion  seems  to  be  the  doctrine  of  Mansel.  We  accept 
it  as  the  statement  of  a  fact  of  consciousness,  but  we  can  not 
regard  it  as  an  account  of  the  genesis  of  the  idea  of  God  in 
the  human  mind.  The  idea  of  God  as  the  First  Cause,  the  In- 
finite Mind,  the  Perfect  Being,  the  personal  Lord  and  Law- 
giver, the  creator,  sustainer,  and  ruler  of  the  world,  is  not  a 
simple,  primitive  intuition  of  the  mind.  It  is  manifestly  a  com- 
plex, concrete  idea,  and,  as  such,  can  not  be  developed  in  con- 
sciousness, by  the  operation  of  a  single  faculty  of  the  mind,  in 
a  simple,  undivided  act.     It  originates  in  the  spontaneous  ope- 


78  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

ration  of  the  whole  mind.  It  is  a  necessary  deduction  from 
the  facts  of  the  universe,  and  the  primitive  intuitions  of  the  rea- 
son,— a  logical  inference  from  the  facts  of  sense,  consciousness, 
and  reason.  A  philosophy  of  religion  which  regards  the  feel- 
ings as  supreme,  and  which  brands  the  decisions  of  reason  as 
uncertain,  and  well-nigh  valueless,  necessarily  degenerates  into 
mysticism — a  mysticism  "which  pretends  to  elevate  man  di- 
rectly to  God,  and  does  not  see  that,  in  depriving  reason  of  its 
power,  it  really  deprives  man  of  that  which  enables  him  to  know 
God,  and  puts  him  in  a  just  communication  with  God  by  the  in- 
termediary of  eternal  and  infinite  truth.  "^ 

The  religious  sentiments  in  all  minds,  and  in  all  ages,  have 
resulted  from  the  union  of  thought  and  feeling — the  living  and 
harmonious  relation  of  reason  and  sensibility ;  and  a  philoso- 
phy which  disregards  either  is  inadequate  to  the  explanation  of 
the  phenomena. 

IV.  The  fourth  hypothesis  is,  that  religion  has  had  its  out- 
birth  in  the  spontaneous  apperceptions  of  reason  ;  that  is,  in  the 
necessary,  a  priori  ideas  of  the  infinite,  the  perfect,  the  uncon- 
ditioned Cause,  the  Eternal  Being,  which  are  evoked  into  con- 
sciousness in  presence  of  the  changeful,  contingent  phenomena 
of  the  world. 

This  will  at  once  be  recognized  by  the  intelligent  reader  as 
the  doctrine  of  Cousin,  by  '^hom.  pure  reason  is  regarded  as  the 
grand  faculty  or  organ  of  religion. 

Religion,  in  the  estimation  of  Cousin,  is  grounded  on  cogfiition 
rather  than  upon  feeling.  It  is  the  knowledge  of  God,  and  the 
knowledge  of  duty  in  its  relation  to  God  and  to  human  happi- 
ness ;  and  as  reason  is  the  general  faculty  of  all  knowing,  it  must 
be  the  faculty  of  religion.  "  In  its  most  elevated  point  of  view, 
religion  is  the  relation  of  absolute  truth  to  absolute  Being,"  and 
as  absolute  truth  is  apprehended  by  the  reason  alone,  reason 
"is  the  veridical  and  religious  part  of  the  nature  of  man."^    By 

'  Cousin,  "  True,  Beautiful,  and  Good,"  p.  i  lo. 
'  Henry's  Cousin,  p.  510. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


79 


"  reason,"  however,  as  we  shall  see  presently.  Cousin  does  not 
mean  the  discursive  or  reflective  reason,  but  the  spontaneous 
or  intuitive  reason.  That  act  of  the  mind  by  which  we  attain 
to  religious  knowledge  is  not  a  process  of  reasoning,  but  a  pure 
appreciation,  an  instinctive  and  involuntary  movement  of  the 
soul. 

The  especial  function  of  reason,  therefore,  is  to  reveal  to  us 
the  invisible,  the  supersensuous,  the  Divine.  "  It  was  bestowed 
upon  us  for  this  very  purpose  of  going,  without  any  circuit  of 
reasoning,  from  the  visible  to  the  invisible,  from  the  finite  to  the 
infinite,  from  the  imperfect  to  the  perfect,  and  from  necessary 
and  eternal  truths,  to  the  eternal  and  necessary  principle  "  that 
is  God.^  Reason  is  thus,  as  it  were,  the  bridge  between  con- 
sciousness and  being ;  it  rests,  at  the  same  time,  on  both ;  it  de- 
scends from  God,  and  approaches  man ;  it  makes  its  appear- 
ance in  consciousness  as  a  guest  which  brings  intelligence  of 
another  world  of  real  Being  which  lies  beyond  the  world  of 
sense. 

Reason  does  not,  however,  attain  to  the  Absolute  Being  di- 
rectly and  immediately,  without  any  intervening  medium.  To 
assert  this  would  be  to  fall  into  the  error  of  Plotinus,  and  the 
Alexandrian  Mystics.  Reason  is  the  offspring  of  God,  a  ray 
of  the  Eternal  Reason,  but  it  is  not  to  be  identified  with  God. 
Reason  attains  to  the  Absolute  Being  indirectly,  and  by  the  in- 
terposition of  truth.  Absolute  truth  is  an  attribute  and  a  man- 
ifestation of  God.  "Truth  is  incomprehensible  without  God, 
and  God  is  incomprehensible  w'ithout  truth.  Truth  is  placed 
between  human  intelligence,  and  the  supreme*  intelligence  as  a 
kind  of  mediator.'"*  Incapable  of  contemplating  God  face  to 
face,  reason  adores  God  in  the  truth  which  represents  and 
manifests  Him. 

Absolute  truth  is  thus  a  revelation  of  God,  made  by  God  to 

the  reason  of  man,  and  as  it  is  a  light  which  illuminates  every 

man,  and  is  perpetually  perceived  by  all  men,  it  is  a  universal 

and  perpetual  revelation  of  God  to  man.     The  mind  of  man  is 

^  Cousin,  "  True,  Beautiful,  and  Good,"  p.  103.        "  Id.,  ib.,  p.  99. 


8o  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

"  the  offspring  of  God,"  and,  as  such,  must  have  some  resem- 
blance to,  and  some  correlation  with  God.  Now  that  which 
constitutes  the  image  of  God  in  man  must  be  found  in  the  rea- 
son which  is  correlated  with,  and  capable  of  perceiving  the 
truth  which  manifests  God,  just  as  the  eye  is  correlated  to  the 
light  which  manifests  the  external  world.  Absolute  truth  is, 
therefore,  the  sole  medium  of  bringing  the  human  mind  into 
communion  with  God ;  and  human  reason,  in  becoming  united 
to  absolute  truth,  becomes  united  to  God  in  his  manifestation 
in  spirit  and  in  truth.  The  supreme  law,  and  highest  destina- 
tion of  man,  is  to  become  united  to  God  by  seeking  a  full  con- 
sciousness of,  and  loving  and  practising  the  Truth. ^ 

It  will  at  once  be  obvious  that  the  grand  crucial  questions 
by  which  this  philosophy  of  religion  is  to  be  tested  are — 

I  St.  How  will  Cousin  prove  to  us  that  human  reason  is  in  pos- 
session of  universal  and  necessary  principles  or  absolute  truths  ?  and, 

2d.  How  are  these  principles  shown  to  be  absolute  ?  how  far  do 
these  principles  of  reason  possess  absolute  authority  1 

The  answer  of  Cousin  to  the  first  question  is  that  we  prove 
reason  to  be  in  possession  of  universal  and  necessary  princi- 
ples by  the  analysis  of  the  contents  of  consciousness,  that  is,  by 
psychological  analysis.  The  phenomena  of  consciousness,  in 
their  primitive  condition,  are  necessarily  complex,  concrete,  and 
particular.  All  our  primary  ideas  are  complex  ideas,  for  the 
evident  reason  that  all,  or  nearly  all,  our  faculties  enter  at  once 
into  exercise ;  their  simultaneous  action  giving  us,  at  the  same 
time,  a  certain  number  of  ideas  connected  with  each  other,  and 
forming  a  whole. '  For  example,  the  idea  of  the  exterior  world, 
which  is  given  us  so  quickly,  is  a  complex  idea,  which  contains 
a  number  of  ideas.  There  is  the  idea  of  the  secondary  quali- 
ties of  exterior  objects;  there  is  the  idea  of  the  primary  quali- 
ties ;  there  is  the  idea  of  the  permanent  reality  of  something  to 
which  you  refer  these  qualities,  to  wit,  matter  ;  there  is  the  idea 
of  space  which  contains  bodies ;  there  is  the  idea  of  time  ip 
which  movements  are  effected.  All  these  ideas  are  acquired 
^  Henry's  Cousin,  p.  511,  512. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  8 1. 

simultaneously,  or  nearly  simultaneously,  and  together  form 
one  complex  idea. 

The  application  of  analysis  to  this  complex  phenomenon 
clearly  reveals  that  there  are  simple  ideas,  beliefs,  principles  in 
the  mind  which  can  not  have  been  derived  from  sense  and  ex- 
perience, which  sense  and  experience  do  not  account  for,  and 
which  are  the  suggestions  of  reason  alone  :  the  idea  of  the  /;/- 
Ji?tite,  the  Perfect,  the  Eternal;  the  true,  the  beautiful,  the  good  ; 
the  principle  of  causality,  of  substance,  of  unity,  of  intentional- 
ity ;  the  principle  of  duty,  of  obligation,  of  accountability,  of 
retribution.  These  principles,  in  their  natural  and  regular  de- 
velopment, carry  us  beyond  the  limits  of  consciousness,  and  re- 
veal to  us  a  world  of  real  being  beyond  the  world  of  sense. 
They  carry  us  up  to  an  absolute  Being,  the  fountain  of  all  ex- 
istence— a  living,  personal,  righteous  God — the  author,  the  sus- 
tainer,  and  ruler  of  the  -universe. 

The  proof  that  these  principles  are  absolute,  and  possessed 
of  absolute  authority,  is  drawn,  first,  from  the  impersonality  of 
reason,  or,  rather,  the  impersonality  of  the  ideas,  principles,  or 
truths  of  reason. 

It  is  not  we  who  create  these  ideas,  neither  can  we  change 
them  at  our  pleasure.  We  are  conscious  that  the  will,  in  all 
its  various  efforts,  is  enstamped  with  the  impress  of  our  person- 
ality. Our  volitions  are  our  own.  So,  also,  our  desires  are  our 
own,  our  emotions  are  our  own.  But  this  is  not  the  same  with 
our  rational  ideas  or  principles.  The  ideas  of  substance,  of 
cause,  of  unity,  of  intentionality  do  not  belong  to  one  person 
any  more  than  to  another  ;  they  belong  to  mind  as  mind,  they 
are  revealed  in  the  universal  intelligence  of  the  race.  Abso- 
lute truth  has  no  element  of  personality  about  it.  Man  may 
say  "  my  reason,"  but  give  him  credit  for  never  having  dared  to 
say  "M_y  truth."  So  far  from  rational  ideas  being  individual, 
their  peculiar  characteristic  is  that  they  are  opposed  to  individ- 
uality, that  is,  they  are  universal  and  necessary.  Instead  of 
being  circumscribed  within  the  limits  of  experience,  they  sur- 
pass and  govern  it ;  they  are  universal  in  the  midst  of  particu- 


82  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

lar  phenomena ;  necessary,  although  mingled  with  things  con- 
tingent ;  and  absolute,  even  when  appearing  within  us  the  rela- 
tive and  finite  beings  that  we  are.'  Necessary,  universal,  abso- 
lute truth  is  a  direct  emanation  from  God.  "  Such  being  the 
case,  the  decision  of  reason  within  its  own  peculiar  province 
possesses  an  authority  almost  divine.  If  we  are  led  astray  by 
it,  we  must  be  led  astray  by  a  light  from  heaven.'"^ 

The  second  proof  is  derived  from  the  distindmi  hehveen  the 
spontaneous  and  reflective  movements  of  reason. 

Reflection  is  voluntary,  spontaneity  is  involuntary ;  reflec- 
tion is  personal,  spontaneity  is  impersonal ;  reflection  is  analyt- 
ic, spontaneity  is  synthetic  ;  reflection  begins  with  doubt,  spon- 
taneity with  affirmation ;  reflection  belongs  to  certain  ones, 
spontaneity  belongs  to  all ;  reflection  produces  science,  spon- 
taneity gives  truth.  Reflection  is  a  process,  more  or  less  tardy, 
in  the  individual  and  in  the  race.  It  sometimes  engenders  er- 
ror and  skepticism,  sometimes  convictions  that,  from  being  ra- 
tional, are  only  the  more  profound.  It  constructs  systems,  it 
creates  artificial  logic,  and  all  those  formulas  which  we  now  use 
by  the  force  of  habit,  as  if  they  were  natural  to  us.  But  spon- 
taneous intuition  is  the  true  logic  of  nature, — instant,  direct, 
and  infallible.  It  is  a  primitive  affirmation  which  implies  no 
negation,  and  therefore  yields  positive  knowledge.  To  reflect 
is  to  return  to  that  which  was.  It  is,  by  the  aid  of  memory,  to 
return  to  the  past,  and  to  render  it  present  to  the  eye  of  con- 
sciousness. Reflection,  therefore,  creates  nothing  ;  it  supposes 
an  anterior  operation  of  the  mind  in  which  there  necessarily 
must  be  as  many  terms  as  are  discovered  by  reflection.  Before 
all  reflection  there  comes  spontaneity — a  spontaneity  of  the  in- 
tellect, which  seizes  truth  at  once,  without  traversing  doubt  and 
error.  "  We  thus  attain  to  a  judgment  free  from  all  reflection, 
to  an  affirmation  without  any  mixture  of  negation,  to  an  imme- 
diate intuition,  the  legitimate  daughter  of  the  natural  energy  of 
thought,  like  the  inspiration  of  the  poet,  the  instinct  of  the  hero, 

*  Cousin,  "  True,  Beautiful,  and  Good,"  p.  40. 
'^  Id.,  "  Lectures,"  vol.  ii.  p.  32. 


GREEK  PBILOHOPHY.  83 

the  enthusiasm  of  the  prophet."  Such  is  the  first  act  of  know- 
ing, and  in  this  first  act  the  mind  passes  from  idea  to  being  with- 
out ever  suspecting  the  depth  of  the  chasm  it  has  passed.  It 
passes  by  means  of  the  power  which  is  in  it,  and  is  not  aston- 
ished at  what  it  has  done.  It  is  subsequently  astonished  when 
by  reflection  it  returns  to  the  analysis  of  the  results,  and,  by  the 
aid  of  the  liberty  with  which  it  is  endowed,  to  do  the  opposite 
of  what  it  has  done,  to  deny  what  it  has  affirmed.  "  Hence 
comes  the  strife  between  sophism  and  common  sense,  between 
false  science  and  natural  truth,  between  good  and  bad  philoso- 
phy, both  of  which  come  from  free  reflection.'" 

It  is  this  spontaneity  of  thought  which  gives  birth  to  religion. 
The  instinctive  thought  which  darts  through  the  world,  even  to 
God,  is  natural  religion.  "  All  thought  implies  a  spontaneous 
faith  in  God,  and  there  is  no  such  thing  as  natural  atheism. 
Doubt  and  skepticism  may  mingle  with  reflective  thought,  but 
beneath  reflection  there  is  still  spontaneity.  When  the  scholar 
has  denied  the  existence  of  God,  listen  to  the  man,  interrogate 
him,  take  him  unawares,  and  you  will  see  that  all  his  words  en- 
velop the  idea  of  God,  and  that  faith  in  God  is,  without  his 
recognition,  at  the  bottom,  in  his  heart.'"* 

Religion,  then,  in  the  system  of  Cousin,  does  not  begin  with 
reflection,  with  science,  but  with  faith.  There  is,  however,  this 
difierence  to  be  noted  between  the.theory  of  the  "faith-philoso- 
phers "  (Jacobi,  Schleiermacher,  etc.)^  and  the  theory  of  Cousin. 
With  them,  faith  is  grounded  on  sensation  ox  feeling;  with  him, 
it  is  grounded  on  reason.  "  Faith,  whatever  may  be  its  form, 
whatever  may  be  its  object,  common  or  sublime,  can  be  noth- 
ing else  than  the  consent  of  reason.  That  is  the  foundation  of 
faith."^ 

Religion  is,  therefore,  with  Cousin,  at  bottom,  pure  Theism. 
He  thinks,  however,  that  "true  theism  is  not  a  dead  religion 
that  forgets  precisely  the  fundamental  attributes  of  God."  It 
recognizes  God  as  creator,  preserver,  and  governor;  it  cele- 

*  Cousin,  "  True,  Beautiful,  and  Good,"  p.  106. 

"  "  Hist,  of  Philos.,"  vol.  i.  p.  137.  ^  Ibid.,  vol.  i.  p.  90. 


84  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

brates  a  providence ;  it  adores  a  perfect,  holy,  righteous,  be- 
nevolent God.  It  holds  the  principle  of  duty,  of  obligation,  of 
moral  desert.  It  not  only  perceives  the  divine  character,  but 
feels  its  relation  to  God.  The  revelation  of  the  Infinite,  by  rea- 
son, moves  the  feelings,  and  passes  into  sentiment,  producing 
reverence,  and  love,  and  gratitude.  And  it  creates  worship, 
which  recalls  man  to  God  a  thousand  times  more  forcibly  than 
the  order,  harmony,  and  beauty  of  the  universe  can  do. 

The  spontaneous  action  of  reason,  in  its  greatest  energy,  is 
inspiration.  "  Inspiration,  daughter  of  the  soul  and  heaven, 
speaks  from  on  high  with  an  absolute  authority.  It  commands 
faith  j  so  all  its  words  are  hymns,  and  its  natural  language  is 
poetry."  "  Thus,  in  the  cradle  of  civilization,  he  who  possessed 
in  a  higher  degree  than  his  fellows  the  gift  of  inspiration, 
passed  for  the  confidant  and  the  interpreter  of  God.  He  is  so 
for  others,  because  he  is  so  for  .himself;  and  he  is  so,  in  fact,  in 
a  philosophic  sense.  Behold  the  sacred  origin  of  prophecies, 
of  pontificates,  and  of  modes  of  worship.'" 

As  an  account  of  the  genesis  of  the  idea  of  God  in  the  hu- 
man intelligence,  the  doctrine  of  Cousin  must  be  regarded  as 
eminently  logical,  adequate,  and  satisfactory.  As  a  theory  of 
the  origin  of  religion,  as  a  philosophy  which  shall  explain  all 
the  phenomena  of  religion,  it  must  be  pronounced  defective, 
and,  in  some  of  its  aspects,  erroneous. 

First,  it  does  not  take^  proper  account  of  that  living  force 
which  has  in  all  ages  developed  so  much  energy,  and  wrought 
such  vast  results  in  the  history  of  religion,  viz.,  the  power  of  the 
heart.  Cousin  discourses  eloquently  on  the  spontaneous,  in- 
stinctive movements  of  the  reason,  but  he  overlooks,  in  a  great 
measure,  the  instinctive  movements  of  the  heart.  He  does  not 
duly  estimate  the  feeling  of  reverence  and  awe  which  rises  spon- 
taneously in  presence  of  the  vastness  and  grandeur  of  the  uni- 
verse, and  of  the  power  and  glory  of  which  the  created  universe 
is  a  symbol  and  shadow.  He  disregards  that  sense  of  an  over- 
shadowing Presence  which,  at  least  in  seasons  of  tenderness 
^  "  Hist,  of  Philos.,"  vol.  i.  p.  129. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  85 

and  deep  sensibility,  seems  to  compass  us  about,  and  lay  its 
hand  upon  us.  He  scarcely  recognizes  the  deep  consciousness 
of  imperfection  and  weakness,  and  utter  dependence,  which 
prompts  man  to  seek  for  and  implore  the  aid  of  a  Superior  Be- 
ing ;  and,  above  all,  he  takes  no  proper  account  of  the  sense  of 
guilt  and  the  conscious  need  of  expiation.  His  theory,  there- 
fore, can  not  adequately  explain  the  universal  prevalence  of 
sacrifices,  penances,  and  prayers.  In  short,  it  does  not  meet 
and  answer  to  the  deep  longings  of  the  human  heart,  the  wants, 
sufferings,  fears,  and  hopes  of  man. 

Cousin  claims  that  the  universal  reason  of  man  is  illumina- 
ted by  the  light  of  God.  It  is  quite  pertinent  to  ask.  Why  may 
not  the  universal  heart  of  humanity  be  touched  and  moved  by 
the  spirit  of  God  ?  If  the  ideas  of  reason  be  a  revelation  from 
God,  may  not  the  instinctive  feelings  of  the  heart  be  an  inspira- 
tion of  God  ?  May  not  God  come  near  to  the  heart  of  man  and 
awaken  a  mysterious  presentiment  of  an  invisible  Presence,  and 
an  instinctive  longing  to  come  nearer  to  Him  ?  May  he  not 
draw  men  towards  himself  by  sweet,  persuasive  influences,  and 
raise  man  to  a  conscious  fellowship?  Is  not  God  indeed  the 
great  want  of  the  human  heart  ? 

Secondly,  Cousin  does  not  give  due  importance  to  the  influ- 
ence of  revealed  truth  as  given  in  the  sacred  Scriptures,  and 
of  the  positive  institutions  of  religion,  as  a  divine  economy,  su- 
pernaturally  originated  in  the  world.  He  grants,  indeed,  that 
"  a  primitive  revelation  throws  light  upon  the  cradle  of  human 
civilization,"  and  that  "  all  antique  traditions  refer  to  an  age  in 
which  man,  at  his  departure  from  the  hand  of  God,  received 
from  him  immediately  all  lights,  and  all  truths."^  He  also  be- 
lieves that  "  the  Mosaic  religion,  by  its  developments,  is  mingled 
with  the  history  of  all  the  surrounding  people  of  Egypt,  of  As- 
syria, of  Persia,  and  of  Greece  and  Rome.'"  Christianity,  how- 
ever, is  regarded  as  "  the  summing  and  crown  of  the  two  great 
religious  systems  which  reigned  by  turn  in  the  East  and  in 
Greece  " — the  maturity  of  Ethnicism  and  Judaism  ;  a  develop- 
Hist.  of  Philos.,"  vol.  i.  p.  148.  '  Ibid.,  vol.  i.  p.  216. 


]  « 


86  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

ment  rather  than  a  new  creation.  The  explanation  which  he 
offers  of  the  phenomena  of  inspiration  opens  the  door  to  reHg- 
ious  skepticism.  Those  who  were  termed  seers,  prophets,  in- 
spired teachers  of  ancient  times,  were  simply  men  who  resigned 
themselves  wholly  to  their  intellectual  instincts,  and  thus  gazed 
'upon  truth  in  its  pure  and  perfect  form.  They  did  not  reason, 
they  did  not  reflect,  they  made  no  pretensions  to  philosophy ; 
they  received  truth  spontaneously  as  it  flowed  in  upon  them 
from  heaven.^  This  immediate  reception  of  Divine  light  was 
nothing  more  than  the  natural  play  of  spontaneous  reason ; 
nothing  more  than  what  has  existed  to  a  greater  or  less  de- 
gree in  every  man  of  great  genius  ;  nothing  more  than  may 
now  exist  in  any  mind  which  resigns  itself  to  its  own  unreflec- 
tive  apperceptions.  Thus  revelation,  in  its  proper  sense,  loses 
all  its  peculiar  value,  and  Christianity  is  robbed  of  its  pre-emi- 
nent authority.  The  extremes  of  Mysticism  and  Rationalism 
here  meet  on  the  same  ground,  and  Plotinus  and  Cousin  are  at 
one. 

V.  The  fifth  hypothesis  offered  in  explanation  of  the  relig- 
ious phenomena  of  the  world  is  that  they  had  their  origin  in  ex- 
ternal REVELATION,  to  which  reason  is  related  as  a  purely  pas- 
sive organ,  a?id  Ethnicism  as  a  feeble  relic. 

This  is  the  theory  of  the  school  of  "  dogmatic  theologians," 
of  which  the  ablest  and  most  familiar  presentation  is  found  in 
the  "  Theological  Institutes  "  of  R.  Watson.'  He  claims  that 
all  our  religious  knowledge  is  derived  from  oral  revelation  alone, 
and  that  all  the  forms  of  religion  and  modes  of  worship  which 
have  prevailed  in  the  heathen  world  have  been  perversions  and 
corruptions  of  the  one  true  religion  first  taught  to  the  earliest 

^  Morell,  "  Hist,  of  Philos.,"  p.  66i. 

^  We  might  have  referred  the  reader  to  Ellis's  "  Knowledge  of  Divine 
Things  from  Revelation,  not  from  Reason  or  Nature  ;"  Leland's  "  Necessity 
of  Revelation ;"  and  Horsley's  "  Dissertations,"  etc.j  but  as  we  are  not  aware 
of  their  having  been  reprinted  in  this  country,  we  select  the  **  Institutes  " 
of  Watson  as  the  best  presentation  of  the  views  of  "  the  dogmatic  theolo- 
gians "  accessible  to  American  readers. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  87 

families  of  men  by  God  himself  All  the  ideas  of  God,  duty, 
immortality,  and  future  retribution  which  are  now  possessed,  or 
have  ever  been  possessed  by  the  heathen  nations,  are  only 
broken  and  scattered  rays  of  the  primitive  traditions  descend- 
ing from  the  family  of  Noah,  and  revived  by  subsequent  in- 
tercourses with  the  Hebrew  race  ;  and  all  the  modes  of  re- 
ligious worship — prayers,  lustrations,  sacrifices — that  have  ob- 
tained in  the  world,  are  but  feeble  relics,  faint  reminiscences  of 
the  primitive  worship  divinely  instituted  among  the  first  families 
of  men.  "  The  first  man  received  the  knowledge  of  God  by 
sensible  converse  with  him,  and  that  doctrine  was  transmitted, 
with  the  confirmation  of  successive  manifestations,  to  the  early 
ancestors  of  all  nations."^  This  belief  in  the  existence  of  a 
Supreme  Being  was  preserved  among  the  Jews  by  continual 
manifestations  of  the  presence  of  Jehovah.  "  The  intercourses 
between  the  Jews  and  the  states  of  Syria  and  Babylon,  on  the 
one  hand,  and  Egypt  on  the  other,  powers  which  rose  to  great 
eminence  and  influence  in  the  ancient  world,  was  maintained 
for  ages.  Their  frequent  dispersions  and  captivities  would  tend 
to  preserve  in  part,  and  in  part  to  revive,  the  knowledge  of  the 
once  common  and  universal  faith. "^  And  the  Greek  sages  who 
resorted  for  instruction  to  the  Chaldean  philosophic  schools 
derived  from  thence  their  knowledge  of  the  theological  system 
of  the  Jews.^  Among  the  heathen  nations  this  primitive  reve- 
lation was  corrupted  by  philosophic  speculation,  as  in  India  and 
China,  Greece  and  Rome ;  and  in  some  cases  it  was  entirely 
obliterated  by  ignorance,  superstition,  and  vice,  as  among  the 
Hottentots  of  Africa  and  the  aboriginal  tribes  of  New  South 
Wales,  who  "  have  no  idea  of  one  Supreme  Creator."* 

The  same  course  of  reasoning  is  pursued  in  regard  to  the 
idea  of  duty,  and  the  knowledge  of  right  and  wrong.  "  A  di- 
rect communication  of  the  Divine  Will  was  made  to  the  primo- 

*  Watson,  "  Theol.  Inst,"  vol.  i.  p.  270.  "^  Id.  ib.,  vol.  i.  p.  31. 

^  See  ch.  v.  and  vi.,  "  On  the  Origin  of  those  Truths  which  are  found  in 
the  Writings  and  Religious  Systems  of  the  Heathen." 

*  Ibid.,  vol.  i.  p.  274. 


88  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

genitors  of  our  race,"  and  to  this  source  alone  we  are  indebted 
for  all  correct  ideas  of  right  and  wrong.  "  Whatever  is  found 
pure  in  morals,  in  ancient  or  modern  writers,  may  be  traced  to 
indirect  revelation."^  Verbal  instruction — tradition  or  scripture 
— thus  becomes  the  source  of  all  our  moral  ideas.  The  doc- 
trine of  immortality,  and  of  a  future  retribution,'^  the  practice  of 
sacrifice  —  precatory  and  expiatory,  are  also  ascribed  to  the 
same  source.*  Thus  the  only  medium  by  which  religious  truth 
can  possibly  become  known  to  the  masses  of  mankind  is  tra- 
dition. The  ultimate  foundation  on  which  the  religious  faith 
and  the  religious  practices  of  universal  humanity  have  rested, 
with  the  exception  of  the  Jews,  and  the  favored  few  to  whom 
the  Gospel  has  come,  is  uncertain,  precarious,  and  easily  cor- 
rupted tradition. 

The  improbability,  inadequacy,  and  incompleteness  of  this 
theory  will  be  obvious  from  the  following  considerations  : 

I.  It  is  highly  improbable  that  truths  so  important  and  vital 
to  man,  so  essential  to  the  well-being  of  the  human  race,  so 
necessary  to  the  perfect  development  of  humanity  as  are  the 
ideas  of  God,  duty,  and  immortality,  should  rest  on  so  precari- 
ous and  uncertain  a  basis  as  tradition  is  admitted,  even  by  Mr. 
Watson,  to  be. 

The  human  mind  needs  the  idea  of  God  to  satisfy  its  deep 
moral  necessities,  and  to  harmonize  all  its  powers.  The  per- 
fection of  humanity  can  never  be  secured,  the  destination  of 
humanity  can  never  be  achieved,  the  purpose  of  God  in  the  ex- 
istence of  humanity  can  never  be  accomplished,  without  the  idea 
of  God,  and  of  the  relation  of  man  to  God,  being  present  to 
the  human  mind.  Society  needs  the  idea  of  a  Supreme  Ruler 
as  the  foundation  of  law  and  government,  and  as  the  basis  of 
social  order.  Without  it,  these  can  not  be,  or  be  conserved. 
Intellectual  creatureship,  social  order,  human  progress,  are  in- 
conceivable and  impossible  without  the  idea  of  God,  and  of  ac- 
countability to  God.     Now  that  truths  so  fundamental  should, 

*  Watson,  "  Theol.  Inst.,"  vol.  ii.  p.  470.  =  j^j^  i^,  ^  yQ\^  ^  p  j  j_ 

^  Id.  ib.,  vol.  i.  p.  26. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  89 

to  the  masses  of  men,  rest  on  tradition  a/one,  is  incredible.  Is 
there  no  known  and  accessible  God  to  the  outlying  millions  of 
our  race  who,  in  consequence  of  the  circumstances  of  birth  and 
education,  which  are  beyond  their  control,  have  had  no  access 
to  an  oral  revelation,  and  among  whom  the  dim  shadowy  rays 
of  an  ancient  tradition  have  long  ago  expired  ?  Are  the  eight 
hundred  millions  of  our  race  upon  whom  the  light  of  Christian- 
ity has  not  shone  unvisited  by  the  common  Father  of  our  race  ? 
Has  the  universal  Father  left  his  "own  offspring"  without  a. 
single  native  power  of  recognizing  the  existence  of  the  Divine 
Parent,  and  abandoned  them  to  solitary  and  dreary  orphanage  ? 
Could  not  he  who  gave  to  matter  its  properties  and  laws, — the 
properties  and  laws  through  whose  operation  he  is  working  out 
his  own  purposes  in  the  realm  of  nature, — could  not  he  have 
also  given  to  mind  ideas  and  principles  which,  logically  devel- 
oped, would  lead  to  recognition  of  a  God,  and  of  our  duty  to 
God,  and,  by  these  ideas  and  principles,  have  wrought  out  his 
sublime  purposes  in  the  realm  of  mind?  Could  not  he  who 
gave  to  man  the  appetency  for  food,  and  implanted  in  his  na- 
ture the  social  instincts  to  preserve  his  physical  being,  have  im- 
planted in  his  heart  a  "feeling  after  God,"  and  an  instinct  to 
worship  God  in  order  to  the  conservation  of  his  spiritual  being  ? 
How  otherwise  can  we  affirm  the  responsibility  and  accounta- 
bility of  all  the  race  before  God  ?  Those  theologians  who  are 
so  earnest  in  the  assertion  that  God  has  not  endowed  man  with 
the  native  power  of  attaining  the  knowledge  of  God  can  not, 
on  any  principle  of  equity,  show  how  the  heathen  are  "  without 
excuse  "  when,  in  involuntary  ignorance  of  God,  they  "  worship 
the  creature  instead  of  the  Creator,"  and  violate  a  law  of  duty 
of  which  they  have  no  possible  means  to  attain  the  barest 
knowledge. 

2.  This  theory  is  utterly  inadequate  to  the  explanation  of  the 
universality  of  religious  rites,  and  especially  of  religious  ideas. 

Take,  for  example,  the  idea  of  God.  As  a  matter  of  fact  we 
affirm,  in  opposition  to  Watson,  the  universality  of  this  idea. 
The  idea  of  God  is  connatural  to  the  human  mind.     Wherever 


90  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

human  reason  has  had  its  normal  and  healthy  development, 
this  idea  has  arisen  spontaneously  and  necessarily.  There  has 
not  been  found  a  race  of  men  who  were  utterly  destitute  of 
some  knowledge  of  a  Supreme  Being.  All  the  instances  al- 
leged have,  on  further  and  more  accurate  inquiry,  been  found 
incorrect.  The  tendency  of  the  last  century,  arbitrarily  to  quad- 
rate all  the  facts  of  religious  history  with  the  prevalent  sensa- 
tional philosophy,  had  its  influence  upon  the  minds  of  the  first 
missionaries  to  India,  China,  Africa,  Australia,  and  the  islands 
of  the  Pacific.  They  expected  to  find  that  the  heathen  had  no 
knowledge  of  a  Supreme  Being,  and  before  they  had  mastered 
the  idioms  of  their  language,  or  become  familiar  with  their  my- 
thological and  cosmological  systems,  they  reported  them  as  utter- 
ly ignorant  of  God,  destitute  of  the  idea  and  even  the  name  of 
a  Supreme  Being.  These  mistaken  and  hasty  conclusions 
have,  however,  been  corrected  by  a  more  intimate  acquaintance 
with  the  people,  their  languages  and  religions.  Even  in  the 
absence  of  any  better  information,  we  should  be  constrained  to 
doubt  the  accuracy  of  the  authorities  quoted  by  Mr.  Watson  in 
relation  to  Hindooism,  when  by  one  (Ward)  we  are  told  that 
the  Hindoo  "  believes  in  a  God  destitute  of  intelligence,^^  and  by 
another  (Moore)  that  "  Brahm  is  the  one  eternal  Mind,  the  self- 
existent,  incomprehensible  Spirit."*  Learned  and  trustworthy 
critics,  Asiatic  as  well  as  European,  however,  confidently  affirm 
that  "  the  ground  of  the  Brahminical  faith  is  Monotheistic ;"  it 
recognizes  "  an  Absolute  and  Supreme  Being  as  the  source  of 
all  that  exists.'^  Eugene  Burnouf,  M.  Barthelemy  Saint-Hilaire, 
Koeppen,  and  indeed  nearly  all  who  have  written  on  the  subject 
of  Buddhism,  have  shown  that  the  metaphysical  doctrines  of 
Buddha  were  borrowed  from  the  earlier  systems  of  the  Brahmin-, 
ic  philosophy.  "Buddha,"  we  are  told,  is  ^^ pure  intelligence,^^ 
" clear  light"  ^^ perfect  wisdom /"  the  same  as  Brahm.     This  is 

^  Watson,  "  Theol.  Inst,"  vol.  i.  p.  46. 

^  Maurice,  "Religions  of  the  World,"  p.  59:  Edin.  Review,  1862,  art. 
"  Recent  Researches  on  Buddhism."  See  also  Muller's  "  Chips  from  a  Ger- 
man Workshop,"  vol.  i.  ch.  i.  to  vi. 


GBEEK  PHILOSOTHT.  ^I 

surely  Theism  in  its  highest  conception.^  In  regard  to  the 
peoples  of  South  Africa,  Dr.  Livingstone  assures  us  "  there  is 
no  need  for  beginning  to  tell  even  the  most  degraded  of  these 
people  of  the  existence  of  a  God,  or  of  a  future  state — the  facts 

being  universally  admitted On  questioning  intelligent  men 

among  the  Backwains  as  to  their  former  knowledge  of  good 
and  evil,  of  God,  and  of  a  future  state,  they  have  scouted  the 
idea  of  any  of  them  ever  having  been  without  a  tolerably  clear 
conception  on  all  these  subjects."^  And  so  far  from  the  New 
Hollanders  having  no  idea  of  a  Supreme  Being,  we  are  assured 
by  E.  Stone  Parker,  the  protector  of  the  aborigines  of  New  Hol- 
land, they  have  a  clear  and  well-defined  idea  of  a  ^^  Great  Spirit" 
the  maker  of  all  things. 

Now  had  the  idea  of  God  rested  solely  on  tradition,  it  were 
the  most  natural  probability  that  it  might  be  lost,  nay,  must  be 
lost,  amongst  those  races  of  men  who  were  geographically  and 
chronologically  far  removed  from  the  primitive  cradle  of  hu- 
manity in  the  East.  The  people  who,  in  their  migrations,  had 
wandered  to  the  remotest  parts  of  the  earth,  and  had  become 
isolated  from  the  rest  of  mankind,  might,  after  the  lapse  of  ages, 
be  expected  to  lose  the  idea  of  God,  if  it  were  not  a  spontane- 
ous and  native  intuition  of  the  mind, — a  necessity  of  thought. 
A  fact  of  history  must  be  presumed  to  stick  to  the  mind  with 
much  greater  tenacity  than  a  purely  rational  idea  which  has  no 
visible  symbol  in  the  sensible  world,  and  yet,  even  in  regard  to 

^  "  It  has  been  said  that  Buddha  and  Kapila  were  both  atheists,  and 
that  Buddha  borrowed  his  atheism  from  Kapila.  But  atheism  is  an  indefi- 
nite term,  and  may  mean  very  different  things.  In  one  sense  every  Indian 
philosopher  was  an  atheist,  for  they  all  perceived  that  the  gods  of  the  pop- 
ulace could  not  claim  the  attributes  that  belong  to  a  Supreme  Being.  But 
all  the  important  philosophical  syst-ems  of  the  Brahmans  admit,  in  some 
form  or  another,  the  existence  of  an  Absolute  and  Supreme  Being,  the  source 
of  all  that  exists,  or  seems  to  exist." — Muller,  "  Chips  from  a  German  Work- 
shop," vol.  i.  pp.  224,  5. 

Buddha,  which  means  "  intelligence,"  "  clear  light,"  "  perfect  wisdom," 
was  not  only  the  name  of  the  founder  of  the  religion  of  Eastern  Asia,  but 
Adi  Buddha  was  the  name  of  the  Absolute,  Eternal  Intelligence.— Maurice, 
*'  Religions  of  the  World,"  p.  102. 

^  "  Missionary  Travels  and  Researches  in  South  Africa,"  p.  158. 


92  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

the  events  of  history,  the  persistence  and  pertinacity  of  tra- 
dition is  exceedingly  feeble.  The  South  Sea  Islanders  know 
not  from  whence,  or  at  what  time,  their  ancestors  came.  There 
are  monuments  in  Tonga  and  Fiji  of  which  the  present  inhab- 
itants can  give  no  account.  How,  then,  can  a  pure,  abstract 
idea  which  can  have  no  sensible  representation,  no  visible 
image,  retain  its  hold  upon  the  memory  of  humanity  for  thou- 
sands of  years  ?  The  Fijian  may  not  remember  whence  his  im- 
mediate ancestors  came,  but  he  knows  that  the  race  came  orig- 
inally from  the  hands  of  the  Creator.  He  can  not  tell  who 
built  the  monuments  of  solid  masonry  which  are  found  in  his . 
island-home,  but  he  can  tell  who  reared  the  everlasting  hills 
and  built  the  universe.  He  may  not  know  who  reigned  in 
Vewa  a  hundred  years  ago,  but  he  knows  who  now  reigns,  and 
has  always  reigned,  over  the  whole  earth.  "  The  idea  of  a  God 
is  familiar  to  the  Fijian,  and  the  existence  of  an  invisible  su- 
perhuman power  controlling  and  influencing  nature,  and  all 
earthly  things,  is  fully  recognized  by  him."^  The  idea  of  God 
is  a  common  fact  of  human  consciousness,  and  tradition  alone 
is  manifestly  inadequate  to  account  for  its  universality. 

3.  A  verbal  revelation  would  be  inadequate  to  convey  the 
knowledge  of  God  to  an  intelligence  "J)urely passive"  and  ut- 
terly unfurnished  with  any  d  priori  ideas  or  necessary  laws  of 
cognition  and  thought. 

Of  course  it  is  not  denied  that  important  verbal  communica- 
tiqns  relating  to  the  character  of  God,  and  the  duties  we  owe 
to  God,  were  given  to  the  first  human  pair,  more  clear  and  defi- 
nite, it  may  be,  than  any  knowledge  attained  by  Socrates  and 
Plato  through  their  dialectic  processes,  and  that  these  oral 
revelations  were  successively  repeated  and  enlarged  to  the  pa- 
triarchs and  prophets  of  the  Old  Testament  church.  And  fur- 
thermore, that  some  rays  of  light  proceeding  from  this  pure 
fountain  of  truth  were  diffused,  and  are  still  lingering  among 
the  heathen  nations,  we  have  no  desire,  and  no  need  to  deny. 

All  this,  however,  supposes,  at  least,  a  natural  power  and 
*  "  Fiji  and  the  Fijians,''  p.  215. 


OBEEK  PHILOSOPHY.  93 

aptitude  for  the  knowledge  of  God,  and  some  configuration  and 
correlation  of  the  human  intelligence  to  the  Divine.  "We 
have  no  knowledge  of  a  d3'namic  influence,  spiritual  or  natural, 
without  a  dynamic  reaction."  Matter  can  not  be  moved  and 
controlled  by  forces  and  laws,  unless  it  have  properties  which 
correlate  it  with  those  forces  and  laws.  And  mind  can  not  be 
determined  from  without  to  any  specific  form  of  cognition,  un- 
less it  have  active  powers  of  apprehension  and  conception 
which  are  governed  by  uniform  laws.  The  "  material "  of 
thought  may  be  supplied  from  without,  but  the  "  form  "  is  de- 
termined by  the  necessary  laws  of  our  inward  being.  All  our 
cognition  of  the  external  world  is  conditioned  by  the  d  priori 
ideas  of  time  and  space,  and  all  our  thinking  is  governed  by 
the  principles  of  causality  and  substance,  and  the  law  of  "  suf- 
ficient reason."  The  mind  itself  supplies  an  element  of  knowl- 
edge in  all  our  cognitions.  Man  can  not  be  taught  the  knowl- 
edge of  God  if  he  be  not  naturally  possessed  of  a  presentiment, 
or  an  apperception  of  a  God,  as  the  cause  and  reason  of  the 
universe.  "  If  education  be  not  already  preceded  by  an  innate 
consciousness  of  God,  as  an  operative  predisposition,  there 
would  be  nothing  for  education  and  culture  to  act  upon.'"  A 
mere  verbal  revelation  can  not  communicate  the  knowledge  of 
God,  if  man  have  not  already  the  idea  of  a  God  in  his  mind. 
A  name  is  a  mere  empty  sign,  a  meaningless  symbol,  without  a 
mental  image  of  the  object  which  it  represents,  or  an  innate 
perception,  or  an  abstract  conception  of  the  mind,  of  which  the 
word- is  the  sign.  The  mental  image  or  the  abstract  concep- 
tion must,  therefore,  precede  the  name ;  cognition  must  be  an- 
terior to,  and  give  the  meaning  of  language.'*  The  child  knows 
a  thing  even  before  it  can  speak  its  name.  And,  universally, 
we  must  know  the  thing  in  itself,  or  image  it  by  analogies  and 
resemblances  to  some  other  thing  we  do  know,  before  the  name 
can  have  any  meaning  for  us.     As  to  purely  rational  ideas  and 

^  Nitzsch,  "  System  of  Christian  Doctrine,"  p.  10. 

"^  "Ideas  must  pre-exist  their  sensible  signs."     See  De  Boismont  on 
"  Hallucination,"  etc.,  p.  iii. 


94  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

abstract  conceptions,  —  as  space,  cause,  the  infinite,  the  per- 
fect,— language  can  never  convey  these  to  the  mind,  nor  can 
the  mind  ever  attain  them  by  experience  if  they  are  not  an  orig- 
inal, connate  part  of  our  mental  equipment  and  furniture.  The 
mere  verbal  affirmation  "  there  is  a  God  "  made  to  one  who  has 
no  idea  of  a  God,  would  be  meaningless  and  unintelligible. 
What  notion  can  a  man  form  of  "  the  First  Cause  "  if  the  prin- 
ciple of  causality  is  not  inherent  in  his  mind  ?  What  concep- 
tion can  he  form  of  "  the  Infinite  Mind  "  if  the  infinite  be  not 
a  primitive  intuition  ?  How  can  he  conceive  of  "  a  Righteous 
Governor  "  if  he  have  no  idea  of  right,  no  sense  of  obligation, 
no  apprehension  of  a  retribution?  Words  are  empty  sounds 
without  ideas,  and  God  is  a  mere  name  if  the  mind  has  no  ap- 
perception of  a  God. 

It  may  be  affirmed  that,  preceding  or  accompanying  the  an- 
nouncement of  the  Divine  Name,  there  was  given  to  the  first 
human  pair,  and  to  the  early  fathers  of  our  race,  some  visible 
manifestation  of  the  presence  of  God,  and  some  supernatural 
display  of  divine  power.  What,  then,  was  the  character  of 
these  early  manifestations,  and  were  they  adequate  to  convey 
the  proper  idea  of  God  ?  Did  God  first  reveal  himself  in  hu- 
man form,  and  if  so,  how  could  their  conception  of  God  ad- 
vance beyond  a  rude  anthropomorphism?  Did  he  reveal  his 
presence  in  a  vast  columnar  cloud  or  a  pillar  of  fire  ?  How 
could  such  an  image  convey  any<:onception  of  the  intelligence, 
the  omnipresence,  the  eternity  of  God  ?  Nay,  can  the  infinite 
and  eternal  Mind  be  represented  by  any  visible  manifestation  ? 
Can  the  human  mind  conceive  an  image  of  God  ?  The  knowl- 
edge of  God,  it  is  clear,  can  not  be  conveyed  by  any  sensible 
sign  or  symbol  if  man  has  no  prior  rational  idea  of  God  as  the 
Infinite  and  the  Perfect  Being. 

If  the  facts  of  order,  and  design,  and  special  adaptation 
which  crowd  the  universe,  and  the  d  priori  ideas  of  an  uncon- 
ditioned Cause  and  an  infinite  Intelligence  which  arise  in  the 
mind  in  presence  of  these  facts,  are  inadequate  to  produce  the 
logical  conviction  that  it  is  the  work  of  an  intelligent  mind,  how 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


95 


can  any  preternatural  display  o^ power  produce  a  rational  con- 
viction that  God  exists?  "If  the  universe  could  come  by 
chance  or  fate,  surely  all  the  lesser  phenomena,  termed  mirac- 
ulous, might  occur  so  too."*  If  we  find  ourselves  standing 
amid  an  eternal  series  of  events,  may  not  miracles  be  a  part  of 
that  series?  Or  if  all  things  are  the  result  of  necessary  and 
unchangeable  laws,  may  not  miracles  also  result  from  some  nat- 
ural or  psychological  law  of  which  we  are  yet  in  ignorance  ? 
Let  it  be  granted  that  man  is  not  so  constituted  that,  by  the 
necessary  laws  of  his  intelligence,  he  must  affirm  that  facts  of 
order  having  a  commencement  in  time  prove  mind ;  let  it  be 
granted  that  man  has  no  intuitive  belief  in  the  Infinite  and  Per- 
fect— in  short,  no  idea  of  God  ;  how,  then,  could  a  marvellous 
display  of  power,  a  new,  peculiar,  and  startling  phenomenon 
which  even  seemed  to  transcend  nature,  prove  to  him  the  ex- 
istence of  an  infinite  intelligence — a  personal  God  ?  The  proof 
would  be  simply  inadequate,  because  not  the  right  kind  of 
proof.  Power  does  not  indicate  intelligence,  force  does  not 
imply  personality. 

Miracles,  in  short,  were  never  intended  to  prove  the  exist- 
ence of  God.  The  foundation  of  this  truth  had  already  been 
laid  in  the  constitution  and  laws  of  the  human  mind,  and  mira- 
cles were  designed  to  convince  us  that  He  of  whose  existence 
we  had  a  prior  certainty,  spoke  to  us  by  His  Messenger,  and 
in  this  way  attested  his  credentials.  To  the  man  who  has  a 
rational  belief  in  the  existence  of  God  this  evidence  of  a  divine 
mission  is  at  once  appropriate  and  conclusive.  "  Master,  we 
know  thou  art  a  teacher  sent  from  God  ;  for  no  man  can  do  the 
works  which  thou  doest,  except  God  be  with  him."  The  Chris- 
tian missionary  does  not  commence  his  instruction  to  the 
heathen,  who  have  an  imperfect,  or  even  erroneous  conception 
of  "  the  Great  Spirit,"  by  narrating  the  miracles  of  Christ,  or 
quoting  the  testimony  of  the  Divine  Book  he  carries  along  with 
him.  He  points  to  the  heavens  and  the  earth,  and  says, 
"  There  is  a  Being  who  made  all  these  things,  and  Jehovah  is 
*  Morell,*"  Hist,  of  Philos."  p.  737. 


96  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

his  name ;  I  have  come  to  you  with  a  message  from  Him  !" 
Or  he  need  scarce  do  even  so  much ;  for  already  the  heathen, 
in  view  of  the  order  and  beauty  which  pervades  the  universe, 
has  been  constrained,  by  the  laws  of  his  own  intelligence,  to  be- 
lieve in  and  offer  worship  to  the  "  "AyvuxTTOQ  Qeoq  " — the  unseen 
and  incomprehensible  God ;  and  pointing  to  their  altars,  he 
may  announce  with  Paul,. "  this  God  whoitt  ye  worship^  though 
ignorantly,  him  declare  I  unto  you !" 

The  results  of  our  study  of  the  various  hypotheses  which 
have  been  offered  in  explanation  of  the  religious  phenomena  of 
the  world  may  be  summed  up  as  follows  :  The  first  and  second 
theories  we  have  rejected  as  utterly  false.  Instead  of  being 
faithful  to  and  adequately  explaining  the  facts,  they  pervert, 
and  maltreat,  and  distort  the  facts  of  religious  history.  The 
last  three  each  contain  a  precious  element  of  truth  which  must 
not  be  undervalued,  and  which  can  not  be  omitted  in  an  ex- 
planation which  can  be  pronounced  complete.  Each  theory, 
taken  by  itself,  is  incomplete  and  inadequate.  The  third  hy- 
pothesis overrates  feeling;  the  fourth,  reason  ;  the  fifth,  verbal 
instruction.  The  first  extreme  is  Mysticism,  the  second  is  Ra- 
tionalism, the  last  is  Dogmatism.  Reason,  feeling,  and  faith 
in  testimony  must  be  combined,  and  mutually  condition  each 
other.  No  purely  rationalistic  hypothesis  will  meet  and  satisfy 
the  wants  and  yearnings  of  the  heart.  No  theory  based  on 
feeling  alone  can  satisfy  the  demands  of  the  human  intellect. 
And,  finally,  an  hypothesis  which  bases  all  religion  upon  his- 
torical testimony  and  outward  fact,  and  despises  and  tramples 
upon  the  intuitions  of  the  reason  and  the  instincts  of  the  heart 
can  never,  command  the  general  faith  of  mankind.  Religion 
embraces  and  conditionates  the  whole  sphere  of  life — thought, 
feeling,  faith,  and  action ;  it  must  therefore  be  grounded  in  the 
entire  spiritual  nature  of  man. 

Our  criticism  of  opposite  theories  has  thus  prepared  the  way 
for,  and  obviated  the  necessity  of  an  extended  discussion  of  the 
hypothesis  we  now  advance.  * 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  97 

The  universal  phenomenon  of  religion  has  originated  in  the  d 
priori  apperceptions  of  reaso7t,  and  the  natural  instinctive  feelings 
of  the  hearty  which,  from  age  to  age,  have  been  vitalized,  unfolded, 
and  perfected  by  supernatural  communications  and  testamentary 
revelations. 

There  are  universal  facts  of  religious  history  which  can  only 
be  explained  on  the  first  principle  of  this  hypothesis ;  there  are 
special  facts  which  can  only  be  explained  on  the  latter  princi- 
ple. The  universal  prevalence  of  the  idea  of  God,  and  the  feel- 
ing of  obligation  to  obey  and  worship  God,  belong  to  the  first 
order  of  facts ;  the  general  prevalence  of  expiatory  sacrifices, 
of  the  rite  of  circumcision,  and  the  observance  of  sacred  and 
holy  days,  belong  to  the  latter.  To  the  last  class  of  facts  the 
observance'of  the  Christian  Sabbath,  and  the  rites  of  Baptism 
and  the  Lord's  Supper  may  be  added. 

The  history  of  all  religions  clearly  attests  that  there  are  two 
orders  of  principles — the  natural  and  the  positive,  and,  in  some 
measure,  two  authorities  of  religious  life  which  are  intimately 
related  without  negativing  each  other.  The  characteristic  of 
the  natural  is  that  it  is  intrinsic,  of  the  positive,  that  it  is  extrin- 
sic. In  all  ages  men  have  sought  the  authority  of  the  positive 
in'  that  which  is  immediately  beyond  and  above  man — in  some 
"  voice  of  the  Divinity  "  toning  down  the  stream  of  ages,  or 
speaking  through  a  prophet  or  oracle,  or  written  in  some  in- 
spired and  sacred  book.  They  have  sought  for  the  authority 
of  the  natural  in  that  which  is  immediately  within  man — the 
voice  of  the  Divinity  speaking  in  the  conscience  and  heart  of 
man.  A  careful  study  of  the  history  of  religion  will  show  a  re- 
ciprocal relation  between  the  two,  and  indicate  their  common 
source. 

We  expect  to  find  that  our  hypothesis  will  be  abundantly 
sustained  by  the  study  of  the  Religion  of  the  AtJwiiaiis. 

1 


98  CHRISTIANITY  AND 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE   RELIGION  OF  THE   ATHENIANS. 

"  All  things  which  I  behold  bear  witness  to  your  carefulness  in  religion 
(deiaidatfiovEGregovg).  For  as  I  passed  through  your  city,  and  beheld  the  ob- 
jects of  your  worship,  I  found  amongst  them  an  altar  with  this  inscription — 
'  TO  THE  Unknown  God.'    Whom  therefore  ye  worship " — St.  Paul. 

THROUGH  one  of  those  remarkable  counter-strokes  of 
Divine  Providence  by  which  the  evil  designs  of  men  are 
overruled,  and  made  to  subserve  the  purposes  of  God,  the  Apos- 
tle Paul  was  brought  to  Athens.  He  walked  beneath  its  stately 
porticoes,  he  entered  its  solemn  temples,  he  stood  before  its 
glorious  statuary,  he  viewed  its  beautiful  altars — all  devoted  to 
pagan  worship.  And  "  his  spirit  was  stirred  within  him  ;"  he 
was  moved  with  indignation  "  when  he  saw  the  city  full  of  im- 
ages of  the  gods.'"  At  the  very  entrance  of  the  city  he  met  the 
evidence  of  this  peculiar  tendency  of  the  Athenians  to  multiply 
the  objects  of  their  devotion  ;  for  here  at  the  gateway  stands 
an  image  of  Neptune,  seated  on  horseback,  and  brandishing 
the  trident.  Passing  through  the  gate,  his  attention  would  be 
immediately  arrested  by  the  sculptured  forms  of  Minerva,  Jupi- 
ter, Apollo,  Mercury,  and  the  Muses,  standing  near  a  sanctuary 
of  Bacchus.  A  long  street  is  now  before  him,  with  temples, 
statues,  and  altars  crowded  on  either  hand.  Walking  to  the 
end  of  this  street,  and  turning  to  the  right,  he  entered  the  Agora, 
a  public  square  surrounded  with  porticoes  and  temples,  which 
were  adorned  with  statuary  and  paintings  in  honor  of  the 
gods  of  Grecian  mythology.  Amid  the  plane-trees  planted  by 
the  hand  of  Cimon  are  the  statues  of  the  deified  heroes  of 
Athens,  Hercules  and  Theseus,  and  the  whole  series  of  the 
Eponymi,  together  with  the  memorials  of  the  older  divinities ; 
^  Lange's  Commentary,  Acts  xvii.  i6. 


OMEEK  PHILOSOPHY.  99 

Mercuries  which  gave  the  name  to  the  streets  on  which  they 
were  placed;  statues  dedicated  to  Apollo  as  patron  of  the 
city  and  her  deliverer  from  the  plague ;  and  in  the  centre  of  all 
the  altar  of  the  Twelve  Gods. 

Standing  in  the  market-place,  and  looking  up  to  the  Areop- 
agus, Paul  would  see  the  temple  of  Mars,  from  whom  the  hill 
derived  its  name.  And  turning  toward  the  Acropolis,  he 
would  behold,  closing  the  long  perspective,  a  series  of  little 
sanctuaries  on  the  very  ledges  of  the  rocks,  shrines  of  Bacchus 
and  ^sculapius,  Venus,  Earth,  and  Ceres,  ending  with  the 
lovely  form  of  the  Temple  of  Unwinged  Victory,  which  glit- 
tered in  front  of  the  Propylasa. 

If  the  apostle  entered  the  "fivefold  gates,"  and  ascended  the 
flight  of  stone  steps  to  the  platform  of  the  Acropolis,  he  would 
find  the  whole  area  one  grapd  composition  of  architecture  and 
statuary  dedicated  to  the  worship  of  the  gods.  Here  stood  the 
Parthenon,  the  Virgin  House,  the  glorious  temple  which  was 
erected  during  the  proudest  days  of  Athenian  glory,  an  entire 
offering  to  Minerva,  the  tutelary  divinity  of  Athens.  Within 
was  the  colossal  statue  of  the  goddess  wrought  in  ivory  and 
gold.  Outside  the  temple  there  stood  another  statue  of 
Minerva,  cast  from  the  brazen  spoils  of  Marathon ;  and  near 
by  yet  another  brazen  Pallas,  which  was  called  by  pre-emi- 
nence "the  Beautiful." 

Indeed,  to  whatever  part  of  Athens  the  apostle  wandered, 
he  would  meet  the  evidences  of  their  "  carefulness  in  religion," 
for  every  public  place  and  every  public  building  was  a  sanctu- 
ary of  some  god.  The  Metroum,  or  record-house,  was  a  temple 
to  the  mother  of  the  gods.  The  council-house  held  statues  of 
Apollo  and  Jupiter,  with  an  altar  to  Vesta.  The  theatre  at 
the  base  of  the  Acropolis  was  consecrated  to  Bacchus.  The 
Pnyx  was  dedicated  to  Jupiter  on  high.  And  as  if,  in  this  di- 
rection, the  Attic  imagination  knew  no  bounds,  abstractions 
were  deified  ;  altars  were  erected  to  Fame,  to  Energy,  to  Mod- 
esty, and  even  to  Pity,  and  these  abstractions  were  honored 
and  worshipped  as  gods. 


100  CHBISTIANITY  AND 

The  impression  made  upon  the  mind  of  Paul  was,  that  the 
city  was  literally  "  full  of  idols,"  or  images  of  the  gods.  This 
impression  is  sustained  by  the  testimony  of  numerous  Greek 
and  Roman  writers.  Pausanias  declares  that  Athens  "had 
more  images  than  all  the  rest  of  Greece ;"  and  Petronius,  the 
Roman  satirist,  says,  "  it  was  easier  to  find  a  god  in  Athens 
than  a  man.'" 

No  wonder,  then,  that  as  Paul  wandered  amid  these  scenes 
"his  spirit  was  stirred  in  him."  He  burned  with  holy  zeal 
to  maintain  the  honor  of  the  true  and  only  God,  whom  now  he 
saw  dishonored  on  every  side.  He  was  filled  with  compassion 
for  those  Athenians  who,  notwithstanding  their  intellectual 
greatness,  had  changed  the  glory  of  God  into  an  image  made 
in  the  likeness  of  corruptible  man,  and  who  really  worshipped 
the  creature  tJiore  than  the  Creator.  The  images  intended  to 
symbolize  the  invisible  perfections  of  God  were  usurping  the 
place  of  God,  and  receiving  the  worship  due  alone  to  him. 
We  may  presume  the  apostle  was  not  insensible  to  the  beau- 
ties of  Grecian  art.  The  sublime  architecture  of  the  Propylaea 
and  the  Parthenon,  the  magnificent  sculpture  of  Phidias  and 
Praxiteles,  could  not  fail  to  excite  his  wonder.  But  he  remem- 
bered that  those  superb  temples  and  this  glorious  statuary 
were  the  creation  of  the  pagan  spirit,  and  devoted  to  polythe- 
istic worship.  The  glory  of  the  supreme  God  was  obscured 
by  all  this  symbolism.  The  creatures  formed  by  God,  the 
symbols  of  his  power  and  presence  in  nature,  the  ministers  of 
his  providence  and  moral  government,  were  receiving  the  hon- 
or due  to  him.  Over  all  this  scene  of  material  beauty  and 
aesthetic  perfection  there  rose  in  dark  and  hideous  proportions 
the  errors  and  delusions  and  sins  against  the  living  God  which 
Polytheism  nurtured,  and  unable  any  longer  to  restrain  him- 
self, he  commenced  to  "  reason  "  with  the  crowds  of  Athenians 
who  stood  beneath  the  shadows  of  the  plane-trees,  or  lounged 

*  See  Conybeare  and  Howson's  **  Life  and  Epistles  of  St.  Paul ;"  also, 
art.  "  Athens,"  in  EncydopcEdia  Britannicq,  whence  our  account  of  the  "  sa- 
cred objects  "  in  Athens  is  chiefly  gathered. 


GREEK  PIIILOSOPHY.  loi 

beneath  the  porticoes  that  surrounded  the  Agora.  Among 
these  groups  of  idlers  were  mingled  the  disciples  of  Zeno  and 
Epicurus,  who  "encountered"  Paul.  The  nature  of  these 
"disputations  "may  be  easily  conjectured.  The  opinions  of 
these  philosophers  are  even  now  familiarly  known :  they  are, 
in  one  form  or  another,  current  in  the  literature  of  modern 
times.  Materialism  and  Pantheism  still  "encounter"  Chris- 
tianity. The  apostle  asserted  the  personal  being  and  spiritual- 
ity of  one  supreme  and  only  God,  who  has  in  divers  ways  re- 
vealed himself  to  man,  and  therefore  may  be  "  known."  He 
proclaimed  that  Jesus  is  the  fullest  and  most  perfect  revelation 
of  God — the  only  "manifestation  of  God  in  the  flesh."  He 
pointed  to  his  *'  resurrection  "  as  the  proof  of  his  superhuman 
character  and  mission  to  the  world.  Some  of  his  hearers  were 
disposed  to  treat  him  with  contempt  -,  they  represented  him  as 
an  ignorant  "babbler,"  who  had  picked  up  a  few  scraps  of 
learning,  and  who  now  sought  to  palm  them  off  as  a  "new" 
philosophy.  But  most  of  them  regarded  him  with  that  pecu- 
liar Attic  curiosity  which  was  always  anxious  to  be  hearing 
some  "new 'thing."  So  they  led  him  away  from  the  tumult 
of  the  market-place  to  the  top  of  Mars'  Hill,  where,  in  its  se- 
rene atmosphere,  they  might  hear  him  more  carefully,  and 
said,  "  May  we  hear  what  this  new  doctrine  is  whereof  thou 
speakest?" 

Surrounded  by  these  men  of  thoughtful,  philosophic  mind — 
men  who  had  deeply  pondered  the  great  problem  of  existence, 
who  had  earnestly  inquired  after  the  "first  principles  of 
things ;"  men  who  had  reasoned  high  of  creation,  fate,  and 
providence  ;  of  right  and  wrong ;  of  conscience,  law,  and  ret- 
ribution; and  had  formed  strong  and  decided  opinions  on  all 
these  questions — he  delivered  his  discourse  on  the  being,  the 
providence,  the  spirituality,  and  the  7noral  government  of  God. 

This  grand  theme  was  suggested  by  an  inscription  he  had 
observed  on  one  of  the  altars  of  the  city,  which  was  dedicated 
"To  the  Unknown  God."  "Ye  men  of  Athens !  every  thing 
which  I  behold  bears  witness  to  your  carefulness  in  religion. 


102  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

For  as  I  passed'  by  and  beheld  your  sacred  objects  I  found  an 
altar  with  this  inscription,  *To  the  Unknown  God;'  whom, 
therefore,  ye  worship,  though  ye  know  him  not  [adequately], 
Him  declare  I  unto  you."  Starting  from  this  point,  the  mani- 
fest carefulness  of  the  Athenians  in  religion,  and  accepting 
this  inscription  as  the  evidence  that  they  had  some  presenti- 
ment, some  native  intuition,  some  dim  conception  of  the  one 
true  and  living  God,  he  strives  to  lead  them  to  a  deeper  knowl- 
edge of  Him.  It  is  here  conceded  by  the  apostle  that  the 
Athenians  were  a  religious  people.  The  observations  he  had 
made  during  his  short  stay  in  Athens  enabled  him  to  bear 
witness  that  the  Athenians  were  "  a  God-fearing  people,"^  and 
he  felt  that  fairness  and  candor  demanded  that  this  trait  should 
receive  from  him  an  ample  recognition  and  a  full  acknowledg- 
ment. Accordingly  he  commences  by  saying  in  gentle  terms, 
well  fitted  to  conciliate  his  audience,  "All  things  which  I  be- 
hold bear  witness  to  your  carefulness  in  religion."  I  recognize 
you  as  most  devout ;  ye  appear  to  me  to  be  a  God-fearing  peo- 
ple,'^ for  as  I  passed  by  and  beheld  your  sacred  objects  I  found 
an  altar  with  this  inscription,  "  To  the  Unknown  God,"  whom 
therefore  ye  worship. 

Tl>e  assertion  that  the  Athenians  were  "  a  religious  people  " 
will,  to  many  of  our  readers,  appear  a  strange  and  startling 
utterance,  which  has  in  it  more  of  novelty  than  truth.  Nay, 
some  will  be  shocked  to  hear  the  Apostle  Paul  described  as 
complimenting  these  Athenians  —  these  pagan  worshippers  — 
on  their  "  carefulness  in  religion."  We  have  been  so  long  ac- 
customed to  use  the  word  "  heathen  "  as  an  opprobrious  epithet 
— expressing,  indeed,  the  utmost  extremes  of  ignorance,  and 
barbarism,  and  cruelty,  that  it  has  become  difficult  for  us  to  be- 
lieve that  in  a  heathen  there  can  be  any  good. 

From  our  childhood  we  have  read  in  our  English  Bibles, 
"  Ye  men  of  Athens,  I  perceive  in  all  things  ye  are  too  super- 

^  Lange's  Commentary,  in  loco. 

'  "  'S2f  before  duaLd. — so  imports.  I  recognize  you  as  such." — Lange's 
Commentary. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  103 

stitious"  and  we  can  scarcely  tolerate  another  version,  even  if 
it  can  be  shown  that  it  approaches  nearer  to  the  actual  lan- 
guage employed  by  Paul.  We  must,  therefore,  ask  the  patience 
and  candor  of  the  reader,  while  we  endeavor  to  show,  on  the 
authority  of  Paul's  words,  that  the  Athenians  were  a  "  religious 
people,"  and  that  all  our  notions  to  the  contrary  are  founded 
on  prejudice  and  misapprehension. 

First,  then,  let  us  commence  even  with  our  English  version  : 
"Ye  men  of  Athens,  I  perceive  that  in  all  things  ye  are  too 
superstitious J^  And  what  now  is  the  meaning  of  the  word 
"  superstition  ?"  It  is  true,  we  now  use  it  only  in  an  evil  sense, 
to  express  a  belief  in  the  agency  of  invisible,  capricious,  malig- 
nant powers,  which  fills  the  mind  with  fear  and  terror,  and  sees 
in  every  unexplained  phenomenon  of  nature  an  omen,  or  prog- 
nostic, of  some  future  evil.  But  this  is  not  its  proper  and  orig- 
inal meaning.  Superstition  is  from  the  Latin  super stitio^  which 
means  a  superabundance  of  religion,^  an  extreme  exactitude 
in  religious  observance.  And  this  is  precisely  the  sense  in 
which  the  corresponding  Greek  term  is  used  by  the  Apostle 
Paul.  Aeim^aii^ovia  properly  means  "reverence  for  the  gods." 
"  It  is  used,"  says  Barnes,  "  in  the  classic  writers,  in  a  good 
sense,  to  denote  piety  towards  the  gods,  or  suitable  fear  and 
reverence  for  them."  "  The  word,"  says  Lechler,  "is,  without 
doubt,  to  be  understood  here  in  a  good  sense ;  although  it 
seems  to  have  been  intentionally  chosen,  in  order  to  indicate 
the  conception  of /ear  (^et^tu),  which  predominated  in  the  relig- 
ion of  the  apostle's  hearers."^  This  reading  is  sustained  by 
the  ablest  critics  and  scholars  of  modern  times.  Bengel  reads 
the  sentence,  "  I  perceive  that  ye  are  very  religious."^  Cudworth 
translates  it  thus  :  "  Ye  are  every  way  more  than  ordinarily  re- 
ligious ^^  Conybeare  and  Howson  read  the  text  as  we  have 
already  given  it,  "  All  things  which  I  behold  bear  witness  to 


*  Nitzsch,  "  System  of  Christ.  Doctrine,"  p.  33. 
"  Lange's  Commentary,  in  loco. 

^  "  Gnomon  of  the  New  Testament." 

*  "  Intellectual  System,"  vol.  i.  p.  626. 


I04  CERISTIANITT  AND 

your  carefulness  in  religion.'"^  Lechler  reads  "very  devout;'" 
Alford,  "carrying  yowr  religious  reverence  very  far  ;"^  and  Albert 
Barnes,*  "  I  perceive  ye  are  greatly  devoted  to  reverence  for  re- 
ligions^ Whoever,  therefore,  will  give  attention  to  the  actual 
words  of  the  apostle,  and  search  for  their  real  meaning,  must 
be  convinced  he  opens  his  address  by  complimenting  the 
Athenians  on  their  being  more  than  ordinarily  religious. 

Nor  are  we  for  a  moment. to  suppose  the  apostle  is  here 
dealing  in  hollow  compliments,  or  having  recourse  to  a  "  pious 
fraud."  Such  a  course  would  have  been  altogether  out  of 
character  with  Paul,  and  to  suppose  him  capable  of  pursuing 
such  a  course  is  to  do  him  great  injustice.  If  "  to  the  Jews  he 
became  as  a  Jew,"  it  was  because  he  recognized  in  Judaism 
the  same  fundamental  truths  which  underlie  the  Christian  sys- 
tem. And  if  here  he  seems  to  become,  in  any  sense,  at  one 
with  "  heathenism,"  that  he  might  gain  the  heathen  to  the  faith 
of  Christ,  it  was  because  he  found  in  heathenism  some  elements 
of  truth  akin  to  Christianity,  and  a  state  of  feeling  favorable 
to  an  inquiry  into  the  truths  he  had  to  present.  He  beheld  in 
Athens  an  altar  reared  to  the  God  he  worshipped,  and  it  afford- 
ed him  some  pleasure  to  find  that  God  was.  not  totally  forgot- 
ten, and  his  worship  totally  neglected,  by  the  Athenians.  The 
God  whom  they  knew  imperfectly,  "ZT/;;/,"  said  he,  "I  declare 
unto  you ;"  I  now  desire  to  make  him  more  fully  known.  The 
worship  of  "  the  Unknown  God  "  was  a  recognition  of  the  being 
of  a  God  whose  nature  transcends  all  human  thought,  a  God 
who  is  ineffable  j  who,  as  Plato  said,  "  is  hard  to  be  discovered, 
and  having  discovered  him,  to  make  him  known  to  all,  impos- 
sible."" It  is  the  confession  of  a  want  of  knowledge,  the  ex- 
pression of  a  desire  to  know,  the  acknowledgment  of  the  duty 
of  worshipping  him.  Underlying  all  the  forms  of  idol-worship 
the  eye  of  Paul  recognized  an  influential  Theism.  Deep  down 
in  the  pagan  heart  he  discovered  a  "  feeling  after  God  " — a 

^  "  Life  and  Epistles  of  St.  Paul,"  vol.  i.  p.  378. 

'  Lange's  Commentary.  ^  Greek  Test.  *  Notes  on  Acts. 

^  Also  Clarke's  Comment.,  in  loco.  ®  Timaeus,  ch.  ix. 


GREEK  nriLOSOPHT.  105 

yearning  for  a  deeper  knowledge  of  the  "  unknown,"  the  invisi- 
ble, the  incomprehensible,  which  he  could  not  despise  or  disre- 
gard. The  mysterious  sentiments  of  fear,  of  reverence,  of  con- 
scious dependence  on  a  supernatural  power  and  presence 
overshadowing  man,  which  were  expressed  in  the  symbolism 
of  the  "sacred  objects"  which  Paul  saw  everywhere  in  Athens, 
commanded  his  respect.  And  he  alludes  to  their  "  devotions," 
not  in  the  language  of  reproach  or  censure,  but  as  furnishing 
to  his  own  mind  the  evidence  of  the  strength  of  their  religious 
instincts,  and  the  proof  of  the  existence  in  their  hearts  of  that 
7iative  apprehension  of  the  supernatural,  the  divine,  which  dwells 
alike  in  all  human  souls. 

The  case  of  the  Athenians  has,  therefore,  a  peculiar  interest 
to  every  thoughtful  mind.  It  confirms  the  belief  that  religion 
is  a"  necessity  to  every  human  mind,  a  want  of  every  human 
heart.  ^  Without  religion,  the  nature  of  man  can  never  be  prop- 
erly developed ;  the  noblest  part  of  man — the  divine,  the  spir- 
itual element  which  dwells  in  man,  as  "  the  offspring  of  God  " 
— must  remain  utterly  dwarfed.  The  spirit,  the  personal  be- 
ing, the  rational  nature,  is  religious,  and  Atheism  is  the  vain 
and  the  wicked  attempt  to  be  something  less  than  man.  If 
the  spiritual  nature  of  man  has  its  normal  and  healthy  devel- 
opment, he  must  become  a  worshipper.  This  is  attested  by 
the  universal  history  of  man.  We  look  down  the  long-drawn 
aisles  of  antiquity,  and  everywhere  we  behold  the  smoking  altar, 
the  ascending  incense,  the  prostrate  form,  the  attitude  of  devo- 
tion. Athens,  with  her  four  thousand  deities — Rome,  with  her 
crowded  Pantheon  of  gods  —  Egypt,  with  her  degrading  super- 
stitions —  Hindostan,  with  her  horrid  and  revolting  rites  —  all 
attest  that  the  religious  principle  is -deeply,  seated  in  the  nature 
of  man.  And  we  are  sure  religion  can  never  be  robbed  of  her 
supremacy,  she  can  never  be  dethroned  in  the  hearts  of  men. 
It  were  easier  to  satisfy  the  cravings  of  hunger  by  logical  syllo- 

*  The  indispensable  necessity  for  a  religion  of  some  kind  to  satisfy  the 
emotional  nature  of  man  is  tacitly  confessed  by  the  atheist  Comte  in  the 
publication  of  his  "  Catechism  of  Positive  Religion." 


I06  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

gisms,  than  to  satisfy  the  yearnings  of  the  human  heart  with- 
out religion.  The  attempt  of  Xerxes  to  bind  the  rushing  floods 
of  the  Hellespont  in  chains  was  not  more  futile  nor  more  im- 
potent than  the  attempt  of  skepticism  to  repress  the  universal 
tendency  to  worship,  so  pecuHar  and  so  natural  to  man  in 
every  age  and  clime. 

The  unwillingness  of  many  to  recognize  a  religious  element 
in  the  Athenian  mind  is  further  accounted  for  by  their  miscon- 
ception of  the  meaning  of  the  word  "religion."  We  are  all 
too  much  accustomed  to  regard  religion  as  a  mere  system  of 
dogmatic  teaching.  We  use  the  terms  "Christian  religion," 
"Jewish  religion,"  "Mohammedan  religion,"  as  comprehend- 
ing simply  the  characteristic  doctrines  by  which  each  is  distin- 
guished ;  whereas  religion  is  a  mode  of  thought,  and  feeling, 
and  action,  determined  by  the  consciousness  of  our  relation  to 
and  our  dependence  upon  God.  It  does  not  appropriate  to 
itself  any  specific  department  of  our  mental  powers  and  sus- 
ceptibilities, but  it  conditions  the  entire  functions  and  circle 
of  our  spiritual  life.  It  is  not  simply  a  mode  of  conceiving 
God  in  thought,  nor  simply  a  mode  of  venerating  God  in  the 
affections,  nor  yet  simply  a  mode  of  worshipping  God  in  out- 
ward and  formal  acts,  but  it  comprehends  the  whole.  Religion 
{religere,  respect,  awe,  reverence)  regulates  our  thoughts,  feel- 
ings, and  acts  towards  God.  "  It  is  a  reference  and  a  relation- 
ship of  our  finite  consciousness  to  the  Creator  and  Sustainer 
and  Governor  of  the  universe."  It  is  such  a  consciousness  of 
the  Divine  as  shall  awaken  in  the  heart  of  man  the  sentiments 
of  reverence,  fear,  and  gratitude  towards  God ;  such  a  sense  of 
dependence  as  shall  prompt  man  to  pray,  and  lead  him  to  per- 
form external  acts  of  worship. 

Religion  does  not,  therefore,  consist  exclusively  in  knowl-' 
edge,  however  correct ;  and  yet  it  must  be  preceded  and  ac- 
companied by  some  intuitive  cognition  of  a  Supreme  Being, 
and  some  conception  of  him  as  a  free  moral  personality.  But 
the  religious  sentiments,  which  belong  rather  to  the  heart  than 
to  the  understanding  of  man — the  consciousness  of  depend- 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


107 


ence,  the  sense  of  obligation,  the  feeling  of  reverence,  the  in- 
stinct to  pray,  the  appetency  to  worship — these  may  all  exist 
and  be  largely  developed  in  a  human  mind  even  when,  as  in 
the  case  of  the  Athenians,  there  is  a  very  imperfect  knowledge 
of  the  real  character  of  God. 

Regarding  this,  then,  as  the  generic  conception  of  religion, 
namely,  that  it  is  a  mode  of  thought  and  feeling  and  action  deter- 
mined by  our  consciousness  of  dependence  on  a  Supreme  Beings 
we  claim  that  the  apostle  was  perfectly  right  in  compliment- 
ing the  Athenians  on  their  "  more  than  ordinary  religiousness," 
for, 

I.  They  had,  in  some  degree  at  least,  that  faith  in  the  being 
and  providence  of  God  which  precedes  and  accompanies  all  re- 
ligion. 

They  had  erected  an  altar  to  the  unseen,  the  unsearchable, 
the  incomprehensible,  the  unknown  God.  And  this  "  unknown 
God  "  whom  the  Athenians  "  worshipped  "  was  the  true  God, 
the  God  whom  Paul  worshipped,  and  whom  he  desired  more 
fully  to  reveal  to  them;  ^'' Him  declare  I  unto  you."  The 
Athenians  had,  therefore,  some  knowledge  of  the  true  God, 
some  dim  recognition,  at  least,  of  his  being,  and  some  concep- 
tion, however  imperfect,  of  his  character.  The  Deity  to  whom 
the  Athenians  reared  this  altar  is  called  "  the  unknown  God," 
because  he  is  unseen  by  all  human  eyes  and  incomprehensible 
to  human  thought.  There  is  a  sense  in  which  to  Paul,  as  well 
as  to  the  Athenians — to  the  Christian  as  well  as  to  the  pa- 
gan— to  the  philosopher  as  well  as  to  the  peasant — God  is 
'•^the  unknown^^  and  in  which  he  must  forever  remain  the 
incomprehensible.  This  has  been  confessed  by  all  thought- 
ful minds  in  every  age.  It  was  confessed  by  Plato.  To  his 
mind  God  is  "the  ineffable,"  the  unspeakable.  Zophar,  the 
friend  of  Job,  asks,  "  Canst  thou  by  searching  find  out  God  1 
Canst  thou  find  out  the  Almighty  to  perfection  ?"  This  knowl- 
edge is  "  high  as  heaven  ;  what  canst  thou  do  ?  deeper  than 
hell ;  what  canst  thou  know  ?"  Does  not  Wesley  teach  us  to 
sing, 


lo8  CHMISTIANITY  AND 

"  Hail,  Father,  whose  creating  call 
Unnumbered  worlds  attend; 
Jehovah,  comprehending  all, 

Whom  none  can  comprehend?" 
\ 
To  his  mind,  as  well  as  to  the  mind  of  the  Athenian,  God  was 

"  the  great  unseen,  unknown."  "  Beyond  the  universe  and 
man,"  says  Cousin,  "  there  remains  in  God  something  unknown, 
impenetrable,  incomprehensible.  Hence,  in  the  immeasurable 
spaces  of  the  universe,  and  beneath  all  the  profundities  of  the 
human  soul,  God  escapes  us  in  this  inexhaustible  infinitude, 
whence  he  is  able  to  draw  without  limit  new  worlds,  new  be- 
ings, new  manifestations.  God  is  therefore  to  us  incomprehensi- 
ble"^ And  without  making  ourselves  in  the  least  responsible 
for  Hamilton's  "  negative  "  doctrine  of  the  Infinite,  or  even  re- 
sponsible for  the  full  import  of  his  words,  we  may  quote  his  re- 
markable utterances  on  this  subject :  "  The  Divinity  is  in  part 
concealed  and  in  part  revealed.  He  is  at  once  known  and  un- 
known. But  the  last  and  highest  consecration  of  all  true  relig- 
ion must  be  an  altar  *  to  the  unknown  God.'  In  this  consum- 
mation nature  and  religion.  Paganism  and  Christianity,  are  at 
one."'' 

When,  therefore,  the  apostle  affirms  that  while  the  Athenians 
worshipped  the  God  whom  he  proclaimed  they  "  knew  him  not," 
we  can  not  understand  him  as  saying  they  were  destitute  of  all 
faith  in  the  being  of  God,  and  of  all  ideas  of  his  real  character. 
Because  for  him  to  have  asserted  they  had  no  knowledge  of 
God  would  not  only  have  been  contrary  to  all  the  facts  of  the 
case,  but  also  an  utter  contradiction  of  all  his  settled  convic- 
tions and  his  recorded  opinions.'  There  is  not  in  modern 
times  a  more  earnest  asserter  of  the  doctrine  that  the  human 
mind  has  an  intuitive  cognition  of  God,  and  that  the  external 
world  reveals  God  to  man.  There  is  a  passage  in  his  letter  to 
the  Romans  which  is  justly  entitled  to  stand  at  the  head  of  all 
discourses  on  "natural  theology,"  Rom.  i.  19-21.  Speaking  of 
the  heathen  world,  who  had  not  been  favored,  as  the  Jews,  with 

*  '*  Lectures,"  vol.  i.  p.  104.  '  "  Discussions  on  Philosophy,"  p.  23. 


OBEEK  PIIILOSOPHT.  109 

a  verbal  revelation,  he  says,  "  That  which  may  be  known  of  God 
is  manifest  in  them,"  that  is,  in  the  constitution  and  laws  of 
their  spiritual  nature,  "  for  God  hath  showed  it  unto  them  "  in 
the  voice  of  reason  and  of  conscience,  so  that  in  the  instincts 
of  our  hearts,  in  the  elements  of  our  moral  nature,  in  the  ideas 
and  laws  of  our  reason,  we  are  taught  the  being  of  a  God. 
These  are  the  subjective  teachings  of  the  human  soul. 

Not  only  is  the  being  of  God  revealed  to  man  in  the  consti- 
tution and  laws  of  his  rational  and  moral  nature,  but  God  is 
also  manifested  to  us  objectively  in  the  realm  of  things  around 
us ;  therefore  Paul  adds,  "  The  invisible  things  of  him,  even  his 
eternal  power  and  Godhead,  from  the  creation  are  clearly  seen, 
being  understood  by  the  things  that  are  made."  The  world  of 
sense,  therefore,  discloses  the  being  and  perfections  of  God. 
The  invisible  attributes  of  God  are  made  apparent  by  the  things 
that  are  visible.  Forth  out  of  nature,  as  the  product  of  the  Di- 
vine Mind,  the  supernatural  shines.  The  forces,  laws,  and  har- 
monies of  the  universe  are  indices  of  the  presence  of  a  presid- 
ing and  informing  Intelligence.  The  creation  itself  is  an  exam- 
ple of  God's  coming  forth  out  of  the  mysterious  depths  of  his 
own  eternal  and  invisible  being,  and  making  himself  apparent 
to  man.  There,  on  the  pages  of  the  volume  of  nature,  we  may 
read,  in  the  marvellous  language  of  symbol,  the  grand  concep- 
tions, the  glorious  thoughts,  the  ideals  of  beauty  which  dwell  in 
the  uncreated  Mind.  These  two  sources  of  knowledge — the  sub- 
jective teachings  of  God  in  the  human  soul,  and  the  objective 
manifestations  of  God  in  the  visible  universe — harmonize,  and, 
together,  fill  up  the  complement  of  our  natural  idea  of  God. 
They  are  two  hemispheres  of  thought,  which  together  form  one 
full-orbed  fountain  of  light,  and  ought  never  to  be  separated  in 
our  philosophy.  And,  inasmuch  as  this  divine  light  shines  on 
all  human  minds,  and  these  works  of  God  are  seen  by  all  hu- 
man eyes,  the  apostle  argues  that  the  heathen  world  "  is  with- 
out excuse,  because,  knowing  God  {yvovreQ  tov  Qeov),  they  did 
not  glorify  him  as  God,  neither  were  thankful ;  but  in  their  rea- 
sonings they  went  astray  after  vanities,  and  their  hearts,  being 


no  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

void  of  wisdom,  were  filled  with  darkness.  Calling  themselves 
wise,  they  were  turned  into  fools,  and  changed  the  glory  of  the 
imperishable  God  for  idols  graven  in  the  likeness  of  perishable 
man,  or  of  birds,  and  beasts,  and  creeping  things,  .  .  .  and 
they  bartered  the  truth  of  God  for  lies,  and  reverenced  and 
worshipped  the  things  made  rather  than  the  Maker,  who  is  bless- 
ed forever.     Amen."* 

The  brief  and  elliptical  report  of  Paul's  address  on  Mars' 
Hill  must  therefore,  in  all  fairness,  be  interpreted  in  the  light 
of  his  more  carefully  elaborated  statements  in  the  Epistle  to 
the  Romans.  And  when  Paur  intimates  that  the  Athenians 
"  knew  not  God,"  we  can  not  understand  him  as  saying  they 
had  no  knowledge,  but  that  their  knowledge  was  imperfect. 
They  did  not  know  God  as  Creator,  Father,  and  Ruler ;  above 
all,  they  did  not  know  him  as  a  pardoning  God  and  a  sanctify- 
ing Spirit.  They  had  not  that  knowledge  of  God  which  purifies 
the  heart,  and  changes  the  character,  and  gives  its  possessor 
eternal  life. 

The  apostle  clearly  and  unequivocally  recognizes  this  truth, 
that  the  idea  of  God  is  connatural  to  the  human  mind ;  that 
in  fact  there  is  not  to  be  found  a  race  of  men  upon  the  face  of 
the  globe  utterly  destitute  of  some  idea  of  a  Supreme  Being. 
Wherever  human  reason  has  had  its  normal  and  healthful  de- 
velopment, it  has  spontaneously  and  necessarily  led  the  human 
mind  to  the  recognition  of  a  God.  The  Athenians  were  no  ex- 
ception to  this  general  law.  They  believed  in  the  existence  of 
one  supreme  and  eternal  Mind,  invisible,  incomprehensible,  in- 
efiable — "  the  unknown  God." 

2.  The  Athenians  had  also  that  consciousness  of  dependence 
upon  God  which  is  the  foundation  of  all  the  primary  religious 
emotions. 

When  the  apostle  affirmed  that  "  in  God  we  live,  and  move, 

and  have  our  being,"  he  uttered  the  sentiments  of  many,  if  not 

all,  of  his  hearers,  and  in  support  of  that  affirmation  he  could 

quote  the  words  of  their  own  poets,  "  for  we  are  also  his  ofF- 

^  Rom.  i.  21-25,  Conybeare  and  Howson's  translation. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  HI 

spring ;'"  and,  as  his  offspring,  we  have  a  derived  and  a  depend- 
ent being.  Indeed,  this  consciousness  of  dependence  is  anal- 
ogous to  the  feeling  which  is  awakened  in  the  heart  of  a  child 
when  its  parent  is  first  manifested  to  its  opening  mind  as  the 
giver  of  those  things  which  it  immediately  needs,  as  its  continu- 
al protector,  and  as  the  preserver  of  its  life.  The  moment  a 
man  becomes  conscious  of  his  own  personality,  that  moment  he 
becomes  conscious  of  some  relation  to  another  personality,  to 
which  he  is  subject,  and  on  which  he  depends.'^ 

A  little  reflection  will  convince  us  that  this  is  the  necessary 
order  in  which  human  consciousness  is  developed. 

There  are  at  least  two  fundamental  and  radical  tendencies 

*  "  Jove's  presence  fills  all  space,  upholds  this  ball ; 

All  need  his  aid ;  his  power  sustains  us  all, 
For  we  his  offspring  are^ 

Aratus,  **  The  Phaenomena,"  book  v.  p.  5. 

Aratus  was  a  poet  of  Cilicia,  Paul's  native  province.     He  flourished  B.C.  277. 

"  Great  and  divine  Father,  whose  names  are  many, 
But  who  art  one  and  the  same  unchangeable,  almighty  power ; 
O  thou  supreme  Author  of  nature  ! 
That  governest  by  a  single  unerring  law  ! 
Hail  King ! 
For  thou  art  able,  to  enforce  obedience  from  all  frail  mortals,   ' 
Because  we  are^U  thine  offsprings 
The  image  and  the  echo  only  of  thy  eternal  voice." 

Cleanthes,  "  Hymn  to  Jupiter.'" 

Cleanthes  was  the  pupil  of  Zeno,  and  his  successor  as  chief  of  the  Stoic 
philosophers. 

'^  "  As  soon  as  a  man  becomes  conscious  of  himself,  as  soon  as  he  per- 
ceives himself  as  distinct  from  other  persons  and  things,  he  at  the  same  mo- 
ment becomes  conscious  of  a  higher  self,  a  higher  power,  without  which  he 
feels  that  neither  he  nor  any  thing  else  would  have  any  life  or  reality.  We 
are  so  fashioned  that  as  soon  as  we  awake  we  feel  on  all  sides  our  depend- 
ence on  something  else  ;  and  all  nations  join  in  some  way  or  another  in  the 
words  of  the  Psalmist,  *  It  is  He  that  made  us,  not  we  ourselves.'  This  is 
the  first  sense  of  the  Godhead,  the  sensus  numinis,  as  it  has  well  been  called ; 
for  it  is  a  sensus,  an  immediate  perception,  not  the  result  of  reasoning  or 
generalization,  but  an  intuition  as  irresistible  as  the  impressions  of  our 
senses.  .  .  .  This  sensus  numinis,  or,  as  we  may  call  it  in  more  homely  lan- 
guage, yaz//^,  is  the  source  of  all  religion  ;  it  is  that  without  which  no  religion, 
whether  true  or  false,  is  possible." — Max  Miiller,  "  Science  of  Language," 
Second  Series,  p.  455. 


112  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

in  human  personality,  namely,  to  hiow  and  to  act  If  we  would 
conceive  of  them  as  they  exist  in  the  innermost  sphere  of  self- 
hood, we  must  distinguish  the  first  as  self-consciousness^  and  the 
second  as  self-determination.  These  are  unquestionably  the  two 
factors  of  human  personality. 

If  we  consider  the  first  of  these  factors  more  closely,  we  shall 
discover  that  self-consciousness  exists  under  limitations  and 
conditions.  Man  can  not  become  clearly  conscious  of  self  with- 
out distinguishing  himself  from  the  outer  world  of  sensation,  nor 
without  distinguishing  self  and  the  world  from  another  being 
upon  whom  they  depend  as  the  ultimate  substance  and  cause. 
Mere  coencesthesis  is  not  consciousness.  Common  feeling  is  un- 
questionably found  among  the  lowest  forms  of  animal  life,  the 
protozoa,  but  it  can  never  rise  to  a  clear  consciousness  of  per- 
sonality until  it  can  distinguish  itself  from  sensation,  and  acquire 
a  presentiment  of  a  divine  power,  on  which  self  and  the  outer 
world  depend.  The  Ego  does  not  exist  for  itself,  can  not  per- 
ceive itself,  but  by  distinguishing  itself  from  the  ceaseless  flow 
and  change  ot  sensation,  and  by  this  act  of  distinguishing,  the 
Ego  takes  place  in  consciousness.  And  the  Ego  can  not  per- 
ceive itself,  nor  cognize  sensation  as  a  state  or  affection  of  the 
Ego  except  by  the  intervention  of  the  reason,  which  supplies 
the  two  great  fundamental  laws  of  causality  and  substance. 
The  facts  of  consciousness  thus  comprehend  three  elements — 
self,  nature,  and  God.  The  determinate  being,  the  Ego,  is  never 
an  absolutely  independent  being,  but  is  always  in  some  way  or 
other  codetermined  by  another ;  it  can  not,  therefore,  be  an  ab- 
solutely original  and  independent,  but  must  in  some  way  or 
another  be  a  derived  and  conditioned  existence. 

Now  that  which  limits  and  conditions  human  self-conscious- 
ness can  not  be  mere  nature,  because  nature  can  not  give  what 
it  does  not  possess  ;  it  can  not  produce  what  is  toto  genere  dif- 
ferent from  itself.  Self-consciousness  can  not  arise  out  of  un- 
consciousness. This  new  beginning  is  beyond  the  power  of 
nature.  Personal  power,  the  creative  principle  of  all  new  be- 
ginnings, is  alone  adequate  to  its  production.     If,  then,  self- 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


113 


consciousness  exists  in  man,  it  necessarily  presupposes  an  ab- 
solutely original,  therefore  unconditioned,  self-consciousness.  Hu- 
man self-consciousness,  in  its  temporal  actualization,  of  course 
presupposes  a  nature-basis  upon  which  it  elevates  itself;  but 
it  is  only  possible  on  the  ground  that  an  eternal  self-conscious 
Mind  ordained  and  rules  over  all  the  processes  of  nature,  and 
implants  the  divine  spark  of  the  personal  spirit  with  the  corpo- 
real frame,  to  realize  itself  in  the  light-flame  of  human  self-con- 
sciousness. The  original  light  of  the  divine  self-consciousness 
is  eternally  and  absolutely  first  and  before  all.  "  Thus,  in  the 
depths  of  our  own  self-consciousness,  as  its  concealed  back- 
ground, the  God-consciousness  reveals  itself  to  us.  This  de- 
scent into  our  inmost  being  is  at  the  same  time  an  ascent  to  God. 
Every  deep  reflection  on  ourselves  breaks  through  the  mere 
crust  of  world-consciousness,  which  separates  us  from  the  in- 
most truth  of  our  existence,  and  leads  us  up  to  Him  in  whom 
we  live  and  move  and  are."^ 

Self-determination,  equally  with  self-consciousness,  exists  in 
us  under  manifold  limitations.  Self-determination  is  limited 
by  physical,  corporeal,  and  mental  conditions,  so  that  there  is 
"  an  impassable  boundary  line  drawn  around  the  area  of  voli- 
tional freedom."  But  the  most  fundamental  and  original  lim- 
itation is  that  of  duty.  The  self-determining  power  of  man  is 
not  only  circumscribed  by  necessary  conditions,  but  also  by 
the  moral  law  in  the  consciousness  of  man.  Self-determination 
alone  does  not  suffice  for  the  full  conception  of  responsible 
freedom  ;  it  only  becomes,  will,  properly  by  its  being  an  intel- 
ligent and  conscious  determination  ;  that  is,  the  rational  subject 
is  able  previously  to  recognize  "  the  right,"  and  present  before 
his  mind  that  which  he  ought  to  do,  that  which  he  is  morally 
bound  to  realize  and  actualize  by  his  own  self-determination 
and  choice.  Accordingly  we  find  in  our  inmost  being  a  sense 
of  obligation  to  obey  the  moral  law  as  revealed  in  the  con- 
science. As  we  can  not  become  conscious  of  self  without  also 
becoming  conscious  of  God,  so  we  can  not  become  properly 
^  Miiller,  "  Christian  Doctrine  of  Sin,"  vol.  i.  p.  81. 
8 


114  CHRISTIANITY   AND 

conscious  of  self-determination  until  we  have  recognized  in  the 
conscience  a  law  for  the  movements  of  the  will. 

Now  this  moral  law,  as  revealed  in  the  conscience,  is  not  a 
mere  autonomy — a  simple  subjective  law  having  no  relation  to 
a  personal  lawgiver  out  of  and  above  man.  Every  admonition 
of  conscience  directly  excites  the  consciousness  of  a  God  to 
whom  man  is  accountable.  The  universal  consciousness  of 
our  race,  as  revealed  in  history,  has  always  associated  the  phe- 
nomena of  conscience  with  the  idea  of  a  personal  Power  above 
man,  to  whom  he  is  subject  and  upon  whom  he  depends.  In 
every  age,  the  voice  of  conscience  has  been  regarded  as  the 
voice  of  God,  so  that  when  it  has  filled  man  with  guilty  appre- 
hensions, he  has  had  recourse  to  sacrifices,  and  penances,  and 
prayers  to  expatiate  his  wrath. 

It  is  clear,  then,  that  if  man  has  duties  there  must  be  a 
self-conscious  Will  by  whom,  these  duties  are  imposed,  for  only 
a  real  will  can  be  legislative.  If  man  has  a  sense  of  obligation^ 
there  must  be  a  supreme  authority  by  which  he  is  obliged.  If 
he  is  responsible,  there  must  be  a  being  to  whom  he  is  account- 
able.^ It  can  not  be  said  that  he  is  accountable  to  himself,  for 
by  that  supposition  the  idea  of  duty  is  obliterated,  and  "  right " 
becomes  identical  with  mere  interest  or  pleasure.  It  can  not 
be  said  that  he  is  simply  responsible  to  society — to  mere  con- 
ventions of  human  opinions  and  human  governments — for  then 
"  right "  becomes  a  mere  creature  of  human  legislation,  and 
^^ Justice  "  is  nothing  but  the  arbitrary  will  of  the  strong  who 
tyrannize  over  the  weak.  Might  constitutes  right.  Against 
such  hypotheses  the  human  mind,  however,  instinctively  revolts. 
Mankind  feel,  universally,  that  there  is  an  authority  beyond  all 
human  governments,  and  a  higher  law  above  all  human  laws, 
from  whence  all  their  powers  are  derived.  That  higher  law  is 
the  Law  of  God,  that  supreme  authority  is  the  God  of  Justice. 
To  this  eternally  just  God,  innocence,  under  oppression  and 
wrong,  has  made  its  proud  appeal,  like  that  of  Prometheus  to 

^  "  The  thought  of  God  will  wake  up  a  terrible  monitor  whose  name  is 
Judge."— Kant. 


OBEEK  PEILOSOPIIT. 


"S 


the  elements,  to  the  witnessing  clouds,  to  coming  ages,  and  has 
been  sustained  and  comforted.  And  to  that  higher  law  the 
weak  have  confidently  appealed  against  the  unrighteous  enact- 
ments of  the  strong,  and  have  finally  conquered.  The  last  and 
inmost  ground  of  all  obligation  is  thus  the  conscious  relation 
of  the  moral  creature  to  God.  The  sense  of  absolute  depend- 
ence upon  a  Supreme  Being  compels  man,  even  while  conscious 
of  subjective  freedom,  to  recognize  at  the  same  time  his  obli- 
gation to  determine  himself  in  harmony  with  the  will  of  Him 
"  in  whom  we  live,  and  move,  and  are." 

This  feeling  of  dependence,  and  this  consequent  sense  of 
obligation,  lie  at  the  very  foundation  of  all  religion.  They  lead 
the  mind  towards  God,  and  anchor  it  in  the  Divine.  They 
prompt  man  to  pray,  and  inspire  him  with  an  instinctive  con- 
fidence in  the  efficacy  of  prayer.  So  that  prayer  is  natural  to 
man,  and  necessary  to  man.  Never  yet  has  the  traveller  found 
a  people  on  earth  without  prayer.  Races  of  men  have  been 
found  without  houses,  without  raiment,  without  arts  and  sci- 
ences, but  never  without  prayer  any  more  than  without  speech. 
Plutarch  wrote,  eighteen  centuries  ago,  "  If  you  go  through  all 
the  world,  you  may  find  cities  without  walls,  without  letters, 
without  rulers,  without  money,  without  theatres,  but  never  with- 
out temples  and  gods,  or  without  prayers,  oaths,  prophecies, 
and  sacrifices,  used  to  obtain  blessings  and  benefits,  or  to  avert 
curses  and  calamities.^  The  naturalness  of  prayer  is  admitted 
even  by  the  modern  unbeliever.  Gerrit  Smith  says,  "  Let  us 
who  believe  that  the  religion  of  reason  calls  for  the  religion  of 
nature,  remember  that  the  flow  of  prayer  is  just  as  natural  as 
the  flow  of  water ;  the  prayerless  man  has  become  an  unnat- 
ural man.'"'*  Is  man  in  sorrow  or  in  danger,  his  most  natural 
and  spontaneous  refuge  is  in  prayer.  The  suffering,  bewilder- 
ed, terror-stricken  soul  turns  towards  God.  "Nature  in  an 
agony  is  no  atheist ;  the  soul  that  knows  not  where  to  fly,  flies 
to  God."  And  in  the  hour  of  deliverance  and  joy,  a  feeling  of 
gratitude  pervades  the  soul — and  gratitude,  too,  not  to  some 
*  "  Against  Kalotes,"  ch.  xxxi.  ^  "  Religion  of  Reason." 


Ii6  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

blind  nature-force,  to  some  unconscious  and  impersonal  power, 
but  gratitude  to  God.  The  soul's  natural  and  appropriate  lan- 
guage in  the  hour  of  deliverance  is  thanksgiving  and  praise. 

This  universal  tendency  to  recognize  a  superior  Power  upon 
whom  we  are  dependent,  and  by  whose  hand  our  well-being 
and  our  destinies  are  absolutely  controlled,  has  revealed  itself 
even  amid  the  most  complicated  forms  of  polytheistic  worship. 
Amid  the  even  and  undisturbed  flow  of  every-day  life  they 
might  be  satisfied  with  the  worship  of  subordinate  deities,  but  in 
the  midst  of  sudden  and  unexpected  calamities,  and  of  terrible 
catastrophes,  then  they  cried  to  the  Supreme  God.^  "When 
alarmed  by  an  earthquake,"  says  Aulus  Gellhis,  "  the  ancient 
Romans  were  accustomed  to  pray,  not  to  some,  one  of  the  gods 
individually,  but  to  God  in  general,  as  to  the  Unknowtiy^ 

"Thus  also  Minutius  Felix  says,  'When  they  stretch  out 
their  hands  to  heaven  they  mention  only  God  ;  and  these  forms 
of  speech,  He  is  great,  and  God  is  true,  and  If  God  grant  (which 
are  the  natural  language  of  the  vulgar),  are  a  plain  confession 
of  the  truth  of  Christianity.'  And  also  Lactantius  testifies, 
*  When  they  swear,  and  when  they  wish,  and  when  they  give 
thanks,  they  name  not  many  gods,  but  God  only ;  the  truth,  by 
a  secret  force  of  nature,  thus  breaking  forth  from  them  whether 
they  will  or  no ;'  and  again  he  says, '  They  fly  to  God ;  aid  is 
desired  of  God  ;  they  pray  that  God  would  help  them ;  and 
when  one  is  reduced  to  extreme  necessity,  he  begs  for  God's 
sake,  and  by  his  divine  power  alone  implores  the  mercy  of 
men.'  "^  The  account  which  is  given  by  Diogenes  Laertius*  of 
the  erection  of  altars  bearing  the  inscription  "  to  the  unknown 
God,"  clearly  shows  that  they  had  their  origin  in  this  general 
sentiment  of  dependence  on  a  higher  Power.     "  The  Athenians 

^  "  At  critical  moments,  when  the  deepest  feelings  of  the  human  heart  are 
stirred,  the  old  Greeks  and  Romans  seem  suddenly  to  have  dropped  all 
mythological  ideas,  and  to  have  fallen  back  on  the  universal  language  of  true 
religion." — Max  Miiller,  "  Science  of  Language,"  p.  436. 

^  Tholuck,  "  Nature  and  Influence  of  Heathenism,"  p.  23. 

^  Cudworth,  vol.  i.  p.  300. 

*  **  Lives  of  Philosophers,"  book  i.,  Epimenides. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  ny 

being  afflicted  with  pestilence  invited  Epimenides  to  lustrate 
tlieir  city.  The  method  adopted  by  him  was  to  carry  several 
sheep  to  the  Areopagus,  whence  they  were  left  to  wander  as 
they  pleased,  under  the  observation  of  persons  sent  to  attend 
them.  As  each  sheep  lay  down  it  was  sacrificed  to  the  propi- 
tious God.  By  this  ceremony  it  is  said  the  city  was  relieved ; 
but  as  it  was  still  unknown  what  deity  was  propitious,  an  altar 
was  erected  to  the  unknown  God  on  every  spot  where  a  sheep 
had  been  sacrificed."^ 

"The  unknown  God "  was  their  deliverer  from  the  plague. 
And  the  erection  of  an  altar  to  him  was  a  confession  of  their 
absolute  dependence  upon  him,  of  their  obligation  to  worship 
him,  as  well  as  of  their  need  of  a  deeper  knowledge  of  him. 
The  gods  who  were  known  and  named  were  not  able  to  deliver 
them  in  times  of  calamity,  and  they  were  compelled  to  look  be- 
yond the  existing  forms  of  Grecian  mythology  for  relief  Be- 
yond all  the  gods  of  the  Olympus  there  was  "  one  God  over 
all,"  the  Father  of  gods  and  men,- the  Creator  of  all  the  subor- 
dinate local  deities,  upon  whom  even  these  created  gods  were 
dependent,  upon  whom  man  was  absolutely  dependent,  and 
therefore  in  times  of  deepest  need,  of  severest  sufiering,  of  ex- 
tremest  peril,  then  they  cried  to  the  living,  supreme,  eternal 
God.^ 

3.  The  Athenians  developed  in  a  high  degree  those  religious 
emotions  which  always  accompany  the  consciousness  of  de- 
pendence on  a  Supreme  Being. 

The  first  emotional  element  of  all  religion  is/ear.  This  is 
unquestionably   true,  whether   religion  be   considered  from  a 

^  See  Townsend's  "  Chronological  Arrangement  of  New  Testament,"  note 
19,  part  xii.;  Doddridge's  "Exposition;"  and  Barnes's  "  Notes  on  Acts." 

^  "  The  men  and  women  of  the  Iliad  and  Odyssey  are  habitually  religious. 
The  language  of  religion  is  often  on  their  tongues,  as  it  is  ever  on  the  lips  of 
every  body  in  the  East  at  this  day.  The  thought  of  the  gods,  and  of  their 
providence  and  government  of  the  world,  is  a  familiar  thought.  They  seem 
to  have  an  abiding  conviction  of  their  ^<?^(?«^(?;z<r^  on  the  gods.  The  results 
of  all  actions  depend  on  the  will  of  the  gods;  it  lies  on  their  knees  (deuv  h 
yovvacL  Kdrac,  Od.  i.  267),  is  the  often  repeated  and  significant  expression  of 
their  feeling  of  dependence."— Tyler,  "Theology  of  Greek  Poets,"  p.  165. 


Il8  CHBISTIANITT  AND 

Christian  or  a  heathen  stand-point.  "  The  fear  of  the  Lord  is 
the  beginning  of  wisdom."  Associated  with,  perhaps  preced- 
ing, all  definite  ideas  of  God,  there  exists  in  the  human  mind 
certain  feelings  of  awe^  and  revereftce,  and  fear  which  arise 
spontaneously  in  presence  of  the  vastness,  and  grandeur,  and 
magnificence  of  the  universe,  and  of  the  power  and  glory  of 
which  the  created  universe  is  but  the  symbol  and  shadow. 
There  is  the  felt  apprehension  that,  beyond  and  back  of  the 
visible  and  the  tangible,  there  is  a  personal^  living  Power,  which 
is  the  foundation  of  all,  and  which  fashions  all,  and  fills  all 
with  its  light  and  life ;  that  "  the  universe  is  the  living  vesture 
in  which  the  Invisible  has  robed  his  mysterious  loveliness." 
There  is  the  feeling  of  an  overshadowing  Presence  which  "  com- 
passeth  man  behind  and  before,  and  lays  its  hand  upon  him." 
This  wonderful  presentiment  of  an  invisible  power  and  pres- 
ence pervading  and  informing  all  nature  is  beautifully  described 
by  Wordsworth  in  his  history  of  the  development  of  the  Scottish 
herdsman's  mind : 

**  So  the  foundations  of  his  mind  were  laid 
In  such  communion,  not  from  terror  free. 
While  yet  a  child,  and  long  before  his  time, 
Had  he  perceived  the  presence  and  the  power 
Of  greatness  ;  and  deep  feelings  had  impressed 
So  vividly  great  objects,  that  they  lay 
Upon  his  mind  like  substances,  whose  presence 
Perplexed  the  bodily  sense. 

In  the  after-day 

Of  boyhood,  many  an  hour  in  caves  forlorn. 

And  'mid  the  hollow  depths  of  naked  crags, 

He  sat,,  and  even  in  their  fixed  lineaments. 

Or  from  the  power  of  a  peculiar  eye, 

Or  by  creative  feeling  overborne. 

Or  by  predominance  of  thought  oppressed, 

Even  in  their  fixed  and  steady  lineaments 

He  traced  an  ebbing  and  a  flowing  mind 

Such  was  the  Boy, — but  for  the  growing  Youth, 

What  soul  was  his,  when,  from  the  naked  top 

Of  some  bold  headland,  he  beheld  the  sun 

Rise  up,  and  bathe  the  world  in  light !     He  looked : 

Ocean  and  earth,  the  solid  frame  of  earth 

And  ocean's  liquid  mass,  in  gladness  lay 

Beneath  him:  far  and  wide  the  clouds  were  touched. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPEY.  II9 

And  in  their  silent  faces  could  he  read 
Unutterable  love.     Sound  needed  none, 
Nor  any  voice  of  joy ;    his  spirit  drank 
The  spectacle :  sensation,  soul,  and  form 
All  melted  into  him;    they  swallowed  up 
His  animal  being;   in  them  did  he  live, 
And  by  them  did  he  live  ;    they  were  his  life, 
In  such  access  of  mind,  in  such  high  hour 
Of  visitation  from  the  living  God."^ 

But  it  may  be  said  this  is  all  mere  poetry;  to  which  we  an- 
swer, in  the  words  of  Aristotle,  "  Poetry  is  a  thing  more  phil- 
osophical and  weightier  than  history."'  The  true  poet  is  the 
interpreter  of  nature.  His  soul  is  in  the  fullest  sympathy  with 
the  grand  ideas  which  nature  symbolizes,  and  he  "  deciphers 
the  universe  as  the  autobiograj^y  of  the  Infinite  Spirit." 
Spontaneous  feeling  is  a  kind  of  inspiration. 

It  is  true  that  all  minds  may  not  be  developed  in  precisely 
the  same  manner  as  Wordsworth's  herdsman's,  because  the 
development  of  every  individual  mind  is  modified  in  some 
measure  by  exterior  conditions.  Men  may  contemplate  nature 
from  different  points  of  view.  Some  may  be  impressed  with  one 
aspect  of  nature,  some  with  another.  But  none  will  fail  to  rec- 
ognize a  mysterious  presence  and  invisible  power  beneath  all 
the  fleeting  and  changeful  phenomena  of  the  universe.  "  And 
sometimes  there  are  moments  of  tenderness,  of  sorrow,  and  of 
vague  mystery  which  bring  the  feeling  of  the  Infinite  Presence 
close  to  the  human  heart. "^ 

Now  we  hold  that  this  feeling  and  se7itiment  of  the  Divine — 
the  supernatural — exists  in  every  mind.  It  may  be,  it  undoubt- 
edly is,  somewhat  modified  in  its  manifestations  by  the  circum- 
stances in  which  men  are  placed,  and  the  degree  of  culture  they 
have  enjoyed.  The  African  Fetichist,  in  his  moral  and  intel- 
lectual debasement,  conceives  a  supernatural  power  enshrined 
in  every  object  of  nature.  The  rude  Fijian  regards  with  dread, 
and  even  terror,  the  Being  who  darts  the  lightnings  and  wields 
the  thunderbolts.  The  Indian  "  sees  God  in  clouds,  and  hears 
him  in  the  wind."  The  Scottish  "  herdsman "  on  the  lonely 
*  "  The  \Vanderer."  ^  Poet,  ch.  ix.  ^  Robertson. 


I20  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

mountain-top  "feels  the  presence  and  the  power  of  greatness," 
and  "in  its  fixed  and  steady  lineaments  he  sees  an  ebbing  and 
a  flowing  mind."  The  philosopher*  lifts  his  eyes  to  "  the  starry 
heavens"  in  all  the  depth  of  their  concave,  and  with  all  their  con- 
stellations of  glory  moving  on  in  solemn  grandeur,  and,  to  his 
mind,  these  immeasurable  regions  seem  "  filled  with  the  splen- 
dors of  the  Deity,  and  crowded  with  the  monuments  of  his 
power ;"  or  he  turns  his  eye  to  "the  Moral  Law  within,"  and  he 
hears  the  voice  of  an  intelligent  and  a  righteous  God,  In  all 
these  cases  we  have  a  revelation  of  the  sentiment  of  the  Divine, 
which  dwells  alike  in  all  human  minds.  In  the  Athenians  this 
sentiment  was  developed  in  a  high  degree.  The  serene  heaven 
which  Greece  enjoyed,  and  which  was  the  best-loved  roof  of  its 
inhabitants,  the  brilliant  sun,  the  mountain  scenery  of  unsur- 
passed grandeur,  the  deep  blue  sea,  an  image  of  the  infinite, 
these  poured  all  their  fullness  on  the  Athenian  mind,  and  fur- 
nished the  most  favorable  conditions  for  the  development  of  the 
religious  sentiments.  The  people  of  Athens  spent  most  of  their 
time  in  the  open  air  in  communion  with  nature,  and  in  the 
cheerful  and  temperate  enjoyment  of  existence.  To  recognize 
the  Deity  in  the  living  powers  of  nature,  and  especially  in  man, 
as  the  highest  sensible  manifestation  of  the  Divine,  was  the  pe- 
culiar prerogative  of  the  Grecian  mind.  And  here  in  Athens, 
art  also  vied  with  nature  to  deepen  the  religious  sentiments. 
It  raised  the  mind  to  ideal  conceptions  of  a  beauty  and  a  sub- 
limity which  transcended  all  mere  nature-forms,  and  by  images 
of  supernatural  grandeur  and  loveliness  presented  to  the  Athe- 
nians symbolic  representations  of  the  separate  attributes  and  op- 
erations of  the  invisible  God.  The  plastic  art  of  Greece  was 
designed  to  express  religious  ideas,  and  was  consecrated  by  re- 
ligious feeling.  Thus  the  facts  of  the  case  are  strikingly  in  har- 
mony with  the  words  of  the  Apostle  :  "  All  things  which  I  behold 
bear  witness  to  your  carefulness  in  religion,"  your  "  reverence 
for  the  Deity,"  your  "  fear  of  God."'     "  The  sacred  objects  "  in 

'  Kant,  in  "  Critique  of  Practical  Reason." 

^  See  Parkhurst's  Lexicon,  under  Aeim6a/./j.ovia,  which  Suidas  explains  by 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY,  12 1 

Athens,  and  especially  "  the  altar  to  the  Unknown  God,"  were 
all  regarded  by  Paul  as  evidences  of  their  instinctive  faith  in 
the  invisible,  the  supernatural,  the  divine. 

Along  with  this  sentiment  of  the  Divine  there  is  also  associ- 
ated, in  all  human  minds,  an  instinctive  yearning  after  the  Invisi- 
ble ;  not  a  mere  feeling  of  curiosity  to  pierce  the  mystery  of  be- 
ing and  of  life,  but  what  Paul  designates  "  a  feeling  after  God," 
which  prompts  man  to  seek  after  a  deeper  knowledge,  and  a 
more  immediate  consciousness.  To  attain  this  deeper  knowl- 
edge— this  more  conscious  realization  of  the  being  and  the  pres- 
ence of  God,  has  been  the  effort  of  all  philosophy  and  all  relig- 
ion in  all  ages.  The  Hindoo  Yogis  proposes  to  withdraw  into 
his  inmost  self,  and  by  a  complete  suspension  of  all  his  active 
powers  to  become  absorbed  and  swallowed  up  in  the  Infinite.^ 
Plato  and  his  followers  sought  by  an  immediate  abstraction  to 
apprehend  "  the  unchangeable  and  permanent  Being,"  and,  by 
a  loving  contemplation,  to  become  "  assimilated  to  the  Deity," 
and  in  this  way  to  attain  the  immediate  consciousness  of  God. 
The  Neo-Platonic  mystic  sought  by  asceticism  and  self-mortifi- 
cation to  prepare  himself  for  divine  communings.  He  would 
contemplate  the  divine  perfections  in  himself ;  and  in  an  ecstatic 
state,  wherein  all  individuality  vanishes,  he  would  realize  a  un- 
ion, or  identity,  with  the  Divine  Essence.'  While  the  universal 
Church  of  God,  indeed,  has  in  her  purest  days  always  taught 
that  man  may,  by  inward  purity  and  a  believing  love,  be  render- 
ed capable  of  spiritually  apprehending,  and  consciously  feeling, 
the  presence  of  God.  Some  may  be  disposed  to  pronounce 
this  as  all  mere  mysticism.  We  answer.  The  living  internal 
energy  of  religion  is  always  mystical,  it  is  grounded  in  feeling — a 
'•'' sensus  numinis^^  common  to  humanity.     It  is  the  mysterious 

ev?Mpeta  Trepl  to  Qelov — reverence  for  the  Divine,  and  Hesychius  by  ^o^cQtla 
—fear  of  God.  Also,  Josephus,  Antiq.,  book  x.  ch.  iii.  §  2  :  "  Manasseh,  af- 
ter his  repentance  and  reformation,  strove  to  behave  himself  (r?/  SeiatSai/xovia 
Xprjodai)  in  the  most  religious  manner  towards  God."  Also  see  A.  Clarke  on 
Acts  xvii. 

^  Vaughan,  "  Hours  with  the  Mystics,"  vol.  i;  p.  44. 

'  Id.  ib.,  vol.  i.  p.  65. 


122  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

sentiment  of  the  Divine;  it  is  the  prolepsis  of^he  human  spirit 
reaching  out  towards  the  Infinite ;  the  living  susceptibiUty  of  our 
spiritual  nature  stretching  after  the  powers  and  influences  of 
the  higher  world.  "  It  is  upon  this  inner  instinct  of  the  super- 
natural that  all  religion  rests.  I  do  not  say  every  religious  idea, 
but  whatever  is  positive,  practical,  powerful,  durable,  and  popu- 
lar. Everywhere,  in  all  climates,  in  all  epochs  of  history,  and 
in  all  degrees  of  civilization,  man  is  animated  by  the  sentiment 
— I  would  rather  say,  the  presentiment — that  the  world  in  which 
he  lives,  the  order  of  things  in  the  midst  of  which  he  moves, 
the  facts  which  regularly  and  constantly  succeed  each  other,  are 
not  all.  In  vain  he  daily  makes  discoveries  and  conquests  in 
this  vast  universe  j  in  vain  he  observes  and  learnedly  verifies 
the  general  laws  which  govern  it  j  his  thought  is  not  inclosed  in 
the  world  surrendered  to  his  science;  the  spectacle  of  it  does  not 
sufiice  his  soul,  it  is  raised  beyond  it ;  it  searches  after  and 
catches  glimpses  of  something  beyond  it ;  it  aspires  higher  both 
for  the  universe  and  itself;  it  aims  at  another  destiny,  another 
master. 

"  *  Par  dela  tous  ces  cieux  le  Dieu  des  cieux  reside.'  "^ 
So  Voltaire  has  said,  and  the  God  who  is  beyond  the  skies  is 
not  nature  personified,  but  a  supernatural  Personality.     It  is  to 
this  highest  Personality  that  all  religions  address  themselves. 
It  is  to  bring  man  into  communion  with  Him  that- they  exist."' 

4.  The  Athenians  had  that  deep  consciousness  of  sin  and 
guilt,  and  of  consequent  liability  to  punishment,  which  confesses 
the  need  of  expiation  by  piacular  sacrifices. 

Every  man  feels  himself  to  be  an  accountable  being,  and  he 
is  conscious  that  in  wrong-doing  he  is  deserving  of  blame  and 
of  punishment.  Deep  within  the  soul  of  the  transgressor  is  the 
consciousness  that  he  is  a  guilty  man,  and  he  is  haunted  with 
the  perpetual  apprehension  of  a  retribution  which,  like  the 
spectre  of  evil  omen,  crosses  his  every  path,  and  meets  him  at 
every  turn. 

*  "  Beyond  all  these  heavens  the  God  of  the  heavens  resides." 
^  Guizot,  "  L'Eglise  et  la  Societe  Chretiennes  "  en  1861. 


OEEEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

"'Tis  guilt  alone, 
Like  brain-sick  frenzy  in  its  feverish  mode, 


123 


Fills  the  light  air  with  visionary  terrors, 
And  shapeless  forms  of  fear." 

Man  does  not  possess  this  consciousness  of  guilt  so  much 
as  it  holds  possession  of  him.  It  pursues  the  -fugitive  from 
justice,  and  it  lays  hold  on  the  man  who  has  resisted  or  es- 
caped the  hand  of  the  executioner.  The  sense  of  guilt  is  a 
power  over  and  above  man ;  a  power  so  wonderful  that  it  often 
compels  the  most  reckless  criminal  to  deliver  himself  up,  with 
the  confession  of  his  deed,  to  the  sword  of  justice,  when  a  false- 
hood would  have  easily  protected  him.  Man  is  only  able  by 
persevering,  ever-repeated  efforts  at  self-induration,  against  the 
remonstrances  of  conscience,  to  withdraw  himself  from  its  pow- 
er. His  success  is,  however,  but  very  partial ;  for  sometimes, 
in  the  moments  of  his  greatest  security,  the  reproaches  of  con- 
science break  in  upon  him  like  a  flood,  and  sweep  away  all  his 
refuge  of  lies.  "  The  evil  conscience  is  the  divine  bond  which 
binds  the  created  spirit,  even  in  deep  apostasy,  to  its  Original. 
In  the  consciousness  of  guilt  there  is  revealed  the  essential  re- 
lation of  our  spirit  to  God,  although  misunderstood  by  man  un- 
til he  has  something  higher  than  his  evil  conscience.  The 
trouble  and  anguish  which  the  remonstrances  of  this  conscious- 
ness excite — the  inward  unrest  which  sometimes  seizes  the 
slave  of  sin — are  proofs  that  he  has  not  quite  broken  away 
from  God.'" 

In  Grecian  mythology  there  was  a  very  distinct  recognition 
of  the  power  of  conscience,  and  a  reference  of  its  authority  to 
the  Divinity,  together  with  the  idea  of  retribution.  Nemesis 
was  regarded  as  the  impersonation  of  the  upbraidings  of  con- 
science, of  the  natural  dread  of  punishment  that  springs  up  in 
the  human  heart  after  the  commission  of  sin.  And  as  the 
feeling  of  remorse  may  be  considered  as  the  consequence  of 
the  displeasure  and  vengeance  of  an  offended  God,  Nemesis 
came  to  be  regarded  as  the  goddess  of  retribution,  relentlessly 
pursuing  the  guilty  until  she  has  driven  them  into  irretrievable 
*  MUUer,  "  Christian  Doctrine  of  Sin,"  vol.  i.  pp.  225,  226. 


124  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

woe  and  ruin.  The  Erinyes  or  Eumenideg  are  the  deities 
whose  business  it  is  to  punish,  in  hades,  the  crimes  committed 
upon  earth.  When  an  aggravated  crime  has  excited  their  dis- 
pleasure they  manifest  their  greatest  power  in  the  disquietude 
of  conscience. 

Along  with  this  deep  consciousness  of  guilt,  and  this  fear  of 
retribution  which  haunts  the  guilty  mind,  there  has  also  rest- 
ed upon  the  heart  of  universal  humanity  a  deep  and  abiding 
conviction  that  something  must  be  done  to  expiate  the  guilt  of 
sin — some  restitution  must  be  made,  some  suffering  must  be 
endured,^  some  sacrifice  offered  to  atone  for  past  misdeeds. 
Hence  it  is  that  men  in  all  ages  have  had  recourse  to  penances 
and  prayers,  to  self-inflicted  tortures  and  costly  sacrifices  to 
appease  a  righteous  anger  which  their  sins  had  excited,  and 
avert  an  impending  punishment.  That  sacrifice  to  atone  for 
sin  has  prevailed  universally — that  it  has  been  practised  "  sem- 
per^ ubique,  et  ab  om7tibtis"  always,  in  all  places,  and  by  all  men 
— will  not  be  denied  by  the  candid  and  competent  inquirer. 
The  evidence  which  has  been  collected  from  ancient  history  by 
Grotius  and  Magee,  and  the  additional  evidence  from  contem- 
poraneous history,  which  is  being  now  furnished  by  the  re- 
searches of  ethnologists  and  Christian  missionaries,  is  conclu- 
sive. No  intelligent  man  can  doubt  the  fact.  Sacrificial  offer- 
ings have  prevailed  in  every  nation  and  in  every  age.  "Al- 
most the  entire  worship  of  the  pagan  nations  consisted  in  rites 
of  deprecation.  Fear  of  the  Divine  displeasure  seems  to  have 
been  the  leading  feature  of  their  religious  impressions  ;  and  in 
the  diversity,  the  costliness,  the  cruelty  of  their  sacrifices  they 

^  "  Punishment  is  the  penalty  due  to  sin ;  or,  to  use  the  favorite  expres- 
sion of  Homer,  not  unusual  in  the  Scriptures  also,  it  is  the  payment  of  a 
debt  incurred  by  sin.  When  he  is  punished,  the  criminal  is  said  to  pay  off 
or  pay  back  {aiTOTivEiv)  his  crimes  ;  in  other  words,  to  expiate  or  atone  for 
them  (Iliad,  iv.  i6i,  162), 

avv  re  jueydlc)  cnreTicav 
ai'v  (Tdymv  Ke^aT^i^ai  ywat^l  re  kol  TeKceaaiv. 

that  is,  they  shall  pay  off,  pay  back,  atone,  etc.,  for  their  treachery  with  a 
great  price,  with  their  lives,  and  their  wives  and  children." — Tyler,  "  The- 
ology of  Greek  Poets,"  p.  194. 

• 


OBEEK  PHILOSOPHY.  12$ 

sought  to  appease  gods  to  whose  wrath  they  felt  themselves 
exposed,  from  a  consciousness  of  sin,  unrelieved  by  any  in- 
formation as  to  the  means  of  escaping  its  effects."^ 

It  must  be  known  to  every  one  at  all  acquainted  with  Greek 
mythology  that  the  idea  of  expiation — atonement — was  a  funda- 
mental idea  of  their  religion.  Independent  of  any  historical 
research,  a  very  slight  glance  at  the  Greek  and  Roman  classics, 
especially  the  poets,  who  were  the  theologians  of  that  age,  can 
leave  little  doubt  upon  this  head."*  Their  language  everywhere 
announces  the  notion  oi propitiation^  and,  particularly  the  Latin, 
furnishes  the  terms  which  are  still  employed  in  theology.  We 
need  only  mention  the  words  tXacr/zoc,  tA-cW/co/iat,  XvTpoy,  TTEpixprj- 
fxa,  as  examples  from  the  Greek,  and  p/acare,propitiare,  expiare, 
piaculum^  from  the  Latin.  All  these  indicate  that  the  notion  of 
expiation  was  interwoven  into  the  very  modes  of  thought  and 
framework  of  the  language  of  the  ancient  Greeks. 

We  do  not  deem  it  needful  to  discuss  at  length  the  ques- 
tion which  has  been  so  earnestly  debated  among  theologians, 
as  to  whether  the  idea  of  expiation  be  a  primitive  and  necessary 
idea  of  the  human  mind,  or  whether  the  practice  of  piacular 
sacrifices  came  into  the  post-diluvian  world  with  Noah,  as  a 

^  Magee,  "  On  the  Atonement,"  No.  V.  p.  30. 

^  In  Homer  the  doctrine  is  expressly  taught  that  the  gods  may,  and  some- 
times do,  remit  the  penalty,  when  duly  propitiated  by  prayers  and  sacrifices 
accompanied  by  suitable  reparations  (*'  Iliad,"  ix.  497  sqq.).  "  We  have  a 
practical  illustration  of  this  doctrine  in  the  first  book  of  the  Iliad,  where 
Apollo  averts  the  pestilence  from  the  army,  when  the  daughter  of  his  priest 
is  returned  without  ransom,  and  a  sacrifice  [eKaroju^Tj)  is  sent  to  the  altar  of 
the  god  at  sacred  Chrysa.  .  .  .  Apollo  hearkens  to  the  intercession  of  his 
priest,  accepts  the  sacred  hecatomb,  is  delighted  with  the  accompanying 
songs  and  libations,  and  sends  back  the  embassy  with  a  favoring  breeze, 
and  a  favorable  answer  to  the  army,  who  meanwhile  had  been  purifying 
(aKeXvfiaivovTo)  themselves,  and  offering  unblemished  hecatombs  of  bulls 
and  goats  on  the  shore  of  the  sea  which  washes  the  place  of  their  encamp- 
ment." 

"The  object  of  the  propitiatory  embassy  to  Apollo  is  thus  stated  by 
Ulysses  :  Agamemnon,  king  of  men,  has  sent  me  to  bring  back  thy  daughter 
Chryses,  and  to  offer  a  sacred  hecatomb  for  (vxep)  the  Greeks,  that  we  may 
propitiate  [ITiaGo/neada)  the  king,  who  now  sends  woes  and  many  groans  upon 
the  Argives  "  (442  sqq.). — Tyler,  "  Theology  of  Greek  Poets,"  pp.  196,  197. 


126  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

positive  institution  of  a  primitive  religion  then  first  directly  in- 
stituted by  God.  On  either  hypothesis  the  practice  of  expia- 
tory rites  derives  its  authority  from  God  ;  in  the  latter  case,  by 
an  outward  and  verbal  revelation,  in  the  former  by  an  inward 
and  intuitive  revelation. 

This  much,  however,  must  be  conceded  on  all  hands,  that 
there  are  certain  fundamental  intuitions,  universal  and  neces- 
sary, which  underlie  the  almost  universal  practice  of  expiatory 
sacrifice,  namely,  the  universal  consciousness  of  guilt,  a7id  the 
universal  conviction  that  something  must  be  done  to  expiate  guilty 
to  compensate  for  wrong,  and  to  atone  for  past  misdeeds.  But 
how  that  expiation  can  be  effected,  how  that  atonement  can  be 
made,  is  a  question  which  reason  does  not  seem  competent  to 
answer.  That  personal  sin  can  be  atoned  for  by  vicarious 
suffering,  that  national  guilt  can  be  expiated  and  national  pun- 
ishment averted  by  animal  sacrifices,  or  even  by  human  sacri- 
fices, is  repugnant  to  rather  than  conformable  with  natural  rea- 
son. There  exists  no  discernible  connection  between  the  one 
and  the  other.  We  may  suppose  that  eucharistic,  penitential, 
and  even  deprecatory  sacrifices  may  have  originated  in  the 
light  of  nature  and  reason,  but  we  are  unable  to  account  for 
the  practice  of  piacular  sacrifices  for  substitutional  atonement, 
on  the  same  principle.  The  ethical  principle,  that  one's  own 
sins  are  not  transferable  either  in  their  guilt  or  punishment,  is 
so  obviously  just  that  we  feel  it  must  have  been  as  clear  to  the 
mind  of  the  Greek  who  brought  his  victim  to  be  offered  t'o  Zeus, 
as  it  is  to  the  philosophic  mind  of  to-day.^  The  knowledge 
that  the  Divine  displeasure  can  be  averted  by  sacrifice  is  not, 
by  Plato,  grounded  upon  any  intuition  of  reason,  as  is  the  ex- 
istence of  God,  the  idea  of  the  true,  the  just,  and  good,  but  on 
"  tradition,'"  and  the  "  interpretations  "  of  Apollo.  "  To  the 
Delphian  Apollo  there  remains  the  greatest,  noblest,  and  most 
important  of  legal  institutions — the  erection  of  temples,  sacrifi' 

^  "  He  that  hath  done  the  deed,  to  suffer  for  it — thus  cries  a  proverb  thrice 
hallowed  by  age." — ^schylus,  "Choeph,"3ii. 
*  "  Laws,"  book  vi.  ch.  xv. 


OF 

// TT  ri  T  1 

GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


^     ^  OF  THK 

ces,  and  other  services  to  the  gods,  .  .  .  and  whaf^tfiwr  services  ^ 
should  be  gone  through  with  a  view  to  thoir  propitiation.  Such 
things  as  these,  indeed,  we  neither  know  ourselves,  nor  infoufid- 
ing  the  State  would  we  intrust  them  to  others,  if  we  be  wise ;  .  .  . 
the  god  of  the  country  is  the  natural  interpreter  to  all  men 
about  such  matters."^ 

The  origin  of  expiatory  sacrifices  can  not,  we  think,  be  ex- 
plained except  on  the  principle  of  a  primitive  revelation  and 
a  positive  appointment  of  God.  They  can  not  be  understood 
except  as  a  divinely-appointed  symbolism,  in  which  there  is 
exhibited  a  confession  of  personal  guilt  and  desert  of  punish- 
ment j  an  intimation  and  a  hope  that  God  will  be  propitious 
and  merciful ;  and  a  typical  promise  and  prophecy  of  a  future 
Redeemer  from  sin,  who  shall  "  put  away  sin  by  the  sacrifice 
of  himself "  This  sacred  rite  was  instituted  in  connection  with 
the  protevangelium  given  to  our  first  parents ;  it  was  diffused 
among  the  nations  by  tradition,  and  has  been  kept  alive  as  a 
general,  and,  indeed,  almost  universal  observance,  by  that  deep 
sense  of  sin,  and  consciousness  of  guilt,  and  personal  urgency 
of  the  need  of  a  reconciliation,  which  are  so  clearly  displayed 
in  Grecian  mythology. 

The  legitimate  inference  we  find  ourselves  entitled  to  draw 
from  the  words  of  Paul,  when  fairly  interpreted  in  the  light  of 
the  past  religious  history  of  the  world,  is,  that  the  Athenians 
were  a  religious  people  ;  that  is,  they  were,  however  unknow- 
ing^ believers  in  and  worshippers  of  the  One  Supreme  God. 

^ "  Republic,"  book  iv.  ch.  v. 


128  CHRISTIANITY  AND 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE   RELIGION   OF   THE    ATHENIANS  :     ITS    MYTHOLOGICAL    AND 
SYMBOLICAL   ASPECTS. 

"  That  there  is  one  Supreme  Deity,  both  philosophers  and  poets,  and  even 
the  vulgar  worshippers  of  the  gods  themselves  frequently  acknowledge ; 
which  because  the  assertors  of  gods  well  understood,  they  affirm  these  gods 
of  theirs  to  preside  over  the  several  parts  of  the  world,  yet  so  that  there  is 
only  one  chief  governor.  Whence  it  follows,  that  all  their  other  gods  can  be 
no  other  than  ministers  and  officers  which  one  greatest  God,  who  is  omnipo- 
tent, hath  variously  appointed,  and  constituted,  so  as  to  serve  his  command." 
— Lactantius. 

THE  conclusion  reached  in  the  previous  chapter  that  the 
Athenians  were  beUevers  in  and  worshippers  of  the  One 
Supreme  God,  has  been  challenged  with  'some  considerable 
show  of  reason  and  force,  on  the  ground  that  they  were  Folythe- 
ists  and  Idolaters. 

An  objection  which  presents  itself  so  immediately  on  the 
very  face  of  the  sacred  narrative,  and  which  is  sustained  by  the 
unanimous  voice  of  history,  is  entitled  to  the  fullest  considera- 
tion. And  as  the  interests  of  truth  are  infinitely  more  precious 
than  the  maintenance  of  any  theory,  however  plausible,  we  are 
constrained  to  accord  to  this  objection  the  fullest  weight,  and 
give  to  it  the  most  impartial  consideration.  We  can  not  do 
otherwise  than  at  once  admit  that  the  Athenians  were  Polythe- 
ists — they  worshipped  "many  gods"  besides  "the  unknown 
God."  It  is  equally  true  that  they  were  Idolaters — they  wor- 
shipped images  or  statues  of  the  gods,  which  images  were  also, 
by  an  easy  metonymy,  called  "  gods." 

But  surely  no  one  supposes  that  this  is  all  that  can  be  said 
upon  the  subject,  and  that,  after  such  admissions,  the  discussion 
must  be  closed.  On  the  contrary,  we  have,  as  yet,  scarce 
caught  a  glimpse  of  the  real  character  and  genius  of  Grecian 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


129 


polytheistic  worship,  and  we  have  not  made  the  first  approach 
towards  a  philosophy  of  Grecian  mythology. 

The  assumption  that  the  heathen  regarded  the  images 
"  graven  by  art  and  device  of  man  "  as  the  real  creators  of  the 
world  and  man,  or  as  having  any  control  over  the  destinies  of 
men,  sinks  at  once  under  the  weight  of  its  own  absurdity.  Such 
hypothesis  is  repudiated  with  scorn  and  indignation  by  the  hea- 
thens themselves.  Cotta,  in  Cicero^  declares  explicitly  :  "  though 
it  be  common  and  familiar  language  amongst  us  to  call  corn 
Ceres,  and  wine  Bacchus,  yet  who  can  think  any  one  so  mad 
as  to  take  that  to  be  really  a  god  that  he  feeds  upon  ?"^  And 
Plutarch  condemns  the  whole  practice  of  giving  the  names  of 
gods  and  goddesses  to  inanimate  objects,  as  absurd,  impious, 
and  atheistical :  "  they  who  give  the  names  of  gods  to  sense- 
less matter  and  inanimate  things,  and  such  as  are  destroyed  by 
men  in  the  using,  beget  most  wicked  and  atheistical  opinions 
in  the  minds  of  men,  since  it  can  not  be  conceived  how  these 
things  should  be  gods,  for  nothing  that  is  inanimate  is  a  god."^ 
And  so  also  the  Hindoo,  the  Buddhist,  the  American  Indian,  the 
Fijian  of  to-day,  repel  the  notion  that  their  visible  images  are 
real  gods,  or  that  they  worship  them  instead  of  the  unseen  God. 

And  furthermore,  that  even  the  invisible  divinities  which 
these  images  were  designed  to  represent,  were  each  independ- 
ent, self-existent  beings,  and  that  the  stories  which  are  told 
concerning  them  by  Homer  and  Hesiod  were  received  in  a 
literal  sense,  is  equally  improbable.  The  earliest  philosophers 
knew  as  well  as  we  know,  that  the  Deity,  in  order  to  be  Deity, 
must  be  either  perfect  or  nothing — that  he  must  be  07ie^  not 
many — without  parts  and  passions  ;  and  they  were  scandalized 
and  shocked  by  the  religious  fables  of  the  ancient  mythology 
as  much  as  we  are.  Xenophanes,  who  lived,  as  we  know,  before 
Pythagoras,  accuses  Homer  and  Hesiod  of  having  ascribed  to 
the  gods  every  thing  that  is  disgraceful  amongst  men,  as  steal- 
ing, adultery,  and  deceit.     He  remarks  "  that  men  seem  to  have 

^  Cudworth's  "  Intell.  System,"  vol.  ii.  p.  257,  Eng.  ed. 
^  Quoted  in  Cudworth's  "  Intell.  System,"  vol.  ii.  p.  258,  Eng.  ed. 
9 


130  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

created  their  gods,  and  to  have  given  them  their  own  mind,  and 
voice,  and  figure."  He  himself  declares  that  "  God  is  one,  the 
greatest  amongst  gods  and  men,  neither  in  form  nor  in  thought 
like  unto  men."  He  calls  the  battles  of  the  Titans  and  the 
Giants,  and  the  Centaurs,  "  the  inventions  of  former  genera- 
tions," and  he  demands  that  God  shall  be  praised  in  holy 
songs  and  nobler  strains/  Diogenes  Laertius  relates  the  fol- 
lowing of  Pythagoras,  "  that  when  he  descended  to  the  shades 
below,  he  saw  the  soul  of  Hesiod  bound  to  a  pillar  of  brass, 
and  gnashing  his  teeth  ;  and  that  of  Homer,  as  suspended  on 
a  tree,  and  surrounded  by  serpents  ;  as  a  punishment  for  the 
things  they  had  said  of  the  gods."^  These  poets,  who  had  cor- 
rupted theolog}^,  Plato  proposes  to  exclude  from  his  ideal  Re- 
public; or  if  permitted  at  all,  they  must  be  subjected  to  a  rigid 
expurgation.  "We  shall,"  says  he,  "have  to  repudiate  a  large 
part  of  those  fables  which  are  now  in  vogue ;  and,  especially, 
of  what  I  call  the  greater  fables, — the  stories  which  Hesiod  and 
Homer  tell  us.  In  these  stories  there  is  a  fault  which  deserves 
the  gravest  condemnation ;  namely,  when  an  author  gives  a 
bad  representation  of  gods  and  heroes.  We  must  condemn  such 
a  poet,  as  we  should  condemn  a  painter,  whose  pictures  bear  no 
resemblance  to  the  objects  which  he  tries  to  imitate.  For  in- 
stance, the  poet  Hesiod  related  an  ugly  story  when  he  told  how 
Uranus  acted,  and  how  Kronos  had  his  revenge  upon  him. 
They  are  offensive  stories,  and  must  not  be  repeated  in  our 
cities.  Not  yet  is  it  proper  to  say,  in  any  case, — what  is  indeed 
untrue — that  gods  wage  war  against  gods,  and  intrigue  and 
fight  among  themselves.  Stories  like  the  chaining  of  Juno 
by  her  son  Vulcan,  and  the  flinging  of  Vulcan  out  of  heaven 
for  trying  to  take  his  mother's  part  when  his  father  was  beating 
her,  and  all  other  battles  of  the  gods  which  are  found  in  Homer, 
must  be  refused  admission  into  our  state,  whether  they  are  alle- 
gorical or  not.  For  a  child  can  not  discriminate  between  what 
is  allegorical  and  what  is  not ;  and  whatever  is  adopted-,  as  a 

^  Max  Miiller,  "  Science  of  Language,"  pp.  405,  406. 
^  "  Lives,"  bk.  viii.  ch,  xix.  p.  347. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  I3I 

matter  of  belief,  in  childhood,  has  a  tendency  to  become  fixed 
and  indelible  ;  and  therefore  we  ought  to  esteem  it  as  of  the 
greatest  importance  that  the  fables  which  children  first  hear 
should  be  adapted,  as  far  as  possible,  to  promote  virtue."^ 

If,  then,  poetic  and  allegorical  representations  of  divine 
things  are  to  be  permitted  in  the  ideal  republic,  then  the  found- 
.  ers  of  the  state  are  to  prescribe  "the  moulds  in  which  the  poets 
are  tg  cast  their  fictions." 

"  Now  what  are  these  moulds  to  be  in  the  case  of  Theology  ? 
They  may  be  described  as  follows :  It  is  right  always  to  rep- 
resent God  as  he  really  is,  whether  the  poet  describe  him  in  an 
epic,  or  a  lyric,  or  a  dramatic  poem.  Now  God  is,  beyond  all 
else,  good  in  reality^  and  therefore  so  to  be  represented.  But 
nothing  that  is  good  is  hurtful.  That  which  is  good  hurts  not ; 
does  no  evil ;  is  the  cause  of  no  evil.  That  which  is  good  is 
beneficial ;  is  the  cause  of  good.  And,  therefore,  that  which 
is  good  is  not  the  cause  of  all  which  is  and  happens,  but  only 

of  that  which  is  as  it  should  be The  good  things  we  must 

ascribe  to  God,  whilst  we  must  seek  elsewhere,  and  not  in  him, 
the  causes  of  evil  things." 

"We  must,  then,  express  our  disapprobation  of  Homer,  or  any 
other  poet,  who  is  guilty  of  such  a  foolish  blunder  as  to  tell  us 
(Iliad,  xxiv.  660)  that 

" '  Fast  by  the  threshold  of  Jove's  court  are  placed 
Two  casks — one  stored  with  evil,  one  ^vith  good :' 

and  that  he  for  whom  the  Thunderer  mingles  both — 

"  *  He  leads  a  life  checkered  with  good  and  ill.' 

But  as  for  the  man  to  whom  he  gives  the  bitter  cup  unmixed— 

" '  He  walks 
The  blessed  earth  unbless'd,  go  where  he  will.' 

And  if  any  one  asserts  that  the  violation  of  oaths  and  treaties 
by  the  act  of  Pandarus  was  brought  about  by  Athene  and  Zeus 
(Iliad,  ii.  60),  we  should  refuse  our  approbation.  Nor  can 
we  allow  it  to  be  said  that  the  strife  and  trial  of  strength  be- 
* "  Republic,"  bk.  ii.  ch.  xvil. 


132  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

tween  the  gods  (Iliad,  xx.)  was  instigated  by  Themis  and 
Zeus Such  language  can  not  be  used  without  irrever- 
ence; it  is  both  injurious  to  us,  and  contradictory  in  itself."^ 

"  Inasmuch  as  God  is  perfect  to  the  utmost  in  beauty  and 
goodness,  he  abides  ever  the  same,  and  without  any  variation  in 
his  form.     Then  let  no  poet  tell  us  that  (Odyss.  xvii.  582) 

"  *  In  similitude  of  strangers  oft 
The  Gods,  who  can  with  ease  all  shapes  assume, 
Repair  to  populous  cities.'  * 

And  let  no  one  slander  Proteus  and  Thetis,  or  introduce  in 
tragedies,  or  any  other  poems,  Hera  transformed  into  the  guise 
of  a  princess  collecting 

" '  Alms  for  the  life-giving  children  of  Inachus,  river  of  Argos,' 
not  to  mention  many  other  falsehoods  which  we  must  inter- 
dict.'"' 

"  When  a  poet  holds  such  language  concerning  the  gods,  we 
shall  be  angry  with  him,  and  refuse  him  a  chorus.  Neither  shall 
we  allow  our  teachers  to  use  his  writings  for  the  instruction  of 
the  young,  if  we  would  have  our  guards  grow  up  to  be  as  god- 
like and  god-fearing  as  it  is  possible  for  men  to  be."' 

We  are  thus  constrained  by  the  statements  of  the  heathens 
themselves,  as  well  as  by  the  dictates  of  common  sense,  to  look 
beyond  the  external  drapery  and  the  material  forms  of  Poly- 
theism for  some  deeper  and  truer  meaning  that  shall  be  more 
in  harmony  with  the  facts  of  the  universal  religious  conscious- 
ness of  our  race.  The  religion  of  ancient  Greece  consisted  in 
something  more  than  the  fables  of  Jupiter  and  Juno,  of  Apollo 
and  Minerva,  of  Venus  and  Bacchus.  "  Through  the  rank  and 
poisonous  vegetation  of  mythic  phraseology,  we  may  always 
catch  a  glimpse  of  an  original  stem  round  which  it  creeps  and 
winds  itself,  and  without  which  it  can  not  enjoy  that  parasitical 
existence  which  has  been  mistaken  for  independent  vitality."* 

^  "  Republic,"  bk.  ii.  ch.  xix. 

^  "  Republic,"  bk.  ii.  ch.  xx.  Much  more  to  the  same  effect  may  be  seen 
in  ch.  ii. 

^  "  Republic,"  bk.  ii.  ch.  xxi. 

*  Max  Miiller,  "  Science  of  Language,"  2d  series,  p.  433. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


"^ZZ 


It  is  an  obvious  truth,  attested  by  the  voice  of  universal- 
consciousness  as  revealed  in  history,  that  tlie  human  mind  can 
never  rest  satisfied  within  the  sphere  of  sensible  phenomena. 
Man  is  impelled  by  an  inward  necessity  to  pass,  in  thought, 
beyond  the  boundary-line  of  sense,  and  inquire  after  causes 
and  entities  which  his  reason  assures  him  must  lie  beneath  all 
sensible  appearances.  He  must  and  will  interpret  nature  ac- 
cording to  the  forms  of  his  own  personality,  or  according  to  the 
fundamental  ideas  of  his  own  reason.  In  the  childlike  sub- 
jectivity of  the  undisciplined  mind  he  will  either  transfer  to  na- 
ture the  phenomena  of  his  own  personality,  regarding  the  world 
as  a  living  organism  which  has  within  it  an  informing  soul,  and 
thus  attain  a  pantheistic  conception  of  the  universe ;  or  else  he 
will  fix  upon  some  extraordinary  and  inexplicable  phenomenon 
of  nature,  and,  investing  it  with  supemditurdX  significance,  will 
rise  from  thence  to  a  religious  and  theocratic  conception  of  na- 
ture as  a  whole.  An  intelligence — a  mind  within  nature,  and 
inseparable  from  nature,  or  else  above  nature  and  governing 
nature,  is,  for  man,  an  inevitable  thought. 

It  is  equally  obvious  that  humanity  can  never  relegate  itself 
from  a  supernatural  origin,  neither  can  it  ever  absolve  itself 
from  a  permanent  correlation  with  the  Divine.  Man  feels 
within  him  an  instinctive  nobility.  He  did  not  arise  out  of  the 
bosom  of  nature ;  in  some  mysterious  way  he  has  descended 
from  an  eternal  mind,  he  is  "the  offspring  o^  God."  And  fur- 
thermore, a  theocratic  conception  of  nature,  associated  with  a 
pre-eminent  regard  for  certain  apparently  supernatural  experi- 
ences in  the  history  of  humanity,  becomes  the  foundation  of 
governments,  of  civil  authority,  and  of  laws.  Society  can  not 
be  founded  without  the  aid  of  the  Deity,  and  a  commonwealth 
can  only  be  organized  by  Divine  interposition.  "A  Ceres 
must  appear  and  sow  the  fields  with  corn."  And  a  Numa  or 
a  Lycurgus  must  be  heralded  by  the  oracle  as 

"  Dear  to  Jove,  and  all  who  sit  in  the  halls  of  the  Olympus." 
He  must  be  a  "  descendant  of  Zeus,"  appointed  by  the  gods 


134  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

to  rule,  and  one  who  will  "prove  himself  a  god."  These  di- 
vinely-appointed rulers  were  regarded  as  the  ministers  of  God, 
the  visible  representatives  of  the  unseen  Power  which  really 
governs  all.  The  divine  government  must  also  have  its  invisi- 
ble agents — its  Nemesis,  and  Themis,  and  Dike,  the  ministers 
of  law,  of  justice,  and  of  retribution  j  and  its  Jupiter,  and  Juno, 
and  Neptune,  and  Pluto,  ruling,  with  delegated  powers,  in  the 
heavens,  the  air,  the  sea,  and  the  nethermost  regions.  So  that, 
in  fact,  there  exists  no  nation,  no  commonwealth,  no  history 
without  a  Theophany,  and  along  with  it  certain  sacred  legends 
detailing  the  origin  of  the  people,  the  government,  the  country 
itself,  and  the  world  at  large.  This  is  especially  true  of  India, 
Egypt,  Greece,  and  Rome.  Their  primitive  history  is  eminent- 
ly mythological. 

Grecian  polytheism  can  not  be  otherwise  regarded  than  as 
a  poetico-historical  religion  of  myth  and  symbol  which  is  under- 
laid by  a  natural  Theism  ;  a  parasitical  growth  which  winds 
itself  around  the  original  stem  of  instinctive  faith  in  a  super- 
natural Power  and  Presence  which  pervades  the  universe. 
The  myths  are  oral  traditions,  floating  down  from  that  dim 
twilight  of  poetic  history,  which  separates  real  history,  with  its 
fixed  chronology,  from  the  unmeasured  and  unrecorded  eter- 
nity— faint  echoes  from  that  mystic  border-land  which  divides 
the  natural  from  the  supernatural,  and  in  which  they  seem  to 
have  been  marvellously  commingled.  They  are  the  lingering 
memories  of  those  manifestations  of  God  to  men,  in  which  he 
or  his  celestial  ministers  came  into  visible  intercourse  with  our 
race ;  the  reality  of  which  is  attested  by  sacred  history.  In 
all  these  myths  there  is  a  theogonic  and  cosmogonic  element. 
They  tell  of  the  generation  of  the  celestial  and  aerial  divinities 
— the  subordinate  agents  and  ministers  of  the  Divine  govern- 
ment. They  attempt  an  explanation  of  the  genesis  of  the  visi- 
ble universe,  the  origin  of  humanity,  and  the  development  of 
human  society.  In  the  presence  of  history,  the  substance  of 
these  myths  is  preserved  by  symbols,  that  is,  by  means  of  nat- 
ural or  artificial,  real  or  striking  objects,  which,  by  some  analo- 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  135 

gy  or  arbitrary  association,  shall  suggest  the  idea  to  the  mind. 
These  symbols  were  designed  to  represent  the  invisible  attri- 
butes and  operations  of  the  Deity ;  the  powers  that  vitalize 
nature,  that  control  the  elements,  that  preside  over  cities,  that 
protect  the  nations  :  indeed,  all  the  agencies  of  the  physical 
and  moral  government  of  God.  Beneath  all  the  pagan  legends 
of  gods,  and  underlying  all  the  elaborate  mechanism  of  pagan 
worship,  there  are  unquestionably  philosophical  ideas,  and  the- 
ological conceptions,  and  religious  sentiments,  which  give  a 
meaning,  and  even  a  mournful  grandeur  to  the  whole. 

Whilst  the  pagan  polytheistic  worship  is,  under  one  aspect, 
to  be  regarded  as  a  departure  from  God,  inasmuch  as  it  takes 
away  the  honor  due  to  God  alone,  and  transfers  it  to  the  crea- 
ture I  still,  under  another  aspect,  we  can  not  fail  to  recognize 
in  it  the  effort  of  the  human  mind  to  fill  up  the  chasm  that 
seemed,  to  the  undisciplined  mind,  to  separate  God  and  man — 
and  to  bridge  the  gulf  between  the  visible  and  the  invisible, 
the  finite  and  the  infinite.  It  was  unquestionably  an  attempt 
to  bring  God  nearer  to  the  sense  and  comprehension  of  man. 
It  had  its  origin  in  that  instinctive  yearning  after  the  super- 
natural, the  Divine,  which  dwells  in  all  human  hearts,  and 
which  has  revealed  itself  in  all  philosophies,  mysticisms,  and 
religions.^  This  longing  was  stimulated  by  the  contemplation 
of  the  living  beauty  and  grandeur  of  the  visible  universe,  which, 
to  the  lively  fancy  and  deep  feeling  of  the  Greeks,  seemed  as 
the  living  vesture  of  the  Infinite  Mind, — the  temple  of  the  eter- 
nal Deity.  In  this  visible  universe  the  Divinity  was  partly  re- 
vealed, and  partly  concealed.  The  unity  of  the  all-pervading 
Intelligence  was  veiled  beneath  an  apparent  diversity  of  power, 
and  a  manifoldness  of  operations.  They  caught  some  glimpses 
of  this  universal  presence  in  nature,  but  were  more  immediately 
and  vividly  impressed  by  the  several  manifestations  of  the  di- 
vine perfections  and  divine  operations,  as  so  many  separate 
rays  of  the  Divinity,  or  so  many  subordinate  agents  and  func- 

*  The  original  constitution  of  man  is  such  that  he  "  seeks  after  "  God 
(Acts  xvii.  27).     "  All  men^^earn  after  the  gods  "  (Homer,  "  Odyss."  iii.  48). 


136  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

tionaries  employed  to  execute  the  will  and  carry  out  the  pur- 
poses of  the  Supreme  Mind/  That  unseen,  incomprehensible 
Power  and  Presence  was  perceived  in  the  sublimity  of  the  deep 
blue  sky,  the  energy  of  the  vitalizing  sun,  the  surging  of  the 
sea,  the  rushing  wind,  the  roaring  thunder,  the  ripening  corn, 
and  the  clustering  vine.  To  these  separate  manifestations  of 
the  Deity  they  gave  personal  names,  as  Jupiter  to  the  heavens, 
Juno  to  the  air,  Neptune  to  the  sea,  Ceres  to  the  corn,  and 
Bacchus  to  the  vine.  These  personals  denoted,  not  the  things 
themselves,  but  the  invisible,  divine  powers  supposed  to  pre- 
side over  those  several  departments  of  nature.  By  a  kind  of 
prosopopoeia  "  they  spake  of  the  things  in  nature,  and  parts  of 
the  world,  as  persons — and  consequently  as  so  many  gods  and 
goddesses — yet  so  as  the  intelligent  might  easily  understand 
their  meaning,  that  these  were  in  reality  nothing  else  hut  so  many 
names  and  notions  of  that  one  Numen, — divijte  force  and  power 
which  runs  through  all  the  world,  multiformly  displaying  itself  J^"^ 
"  Their  various  deities  were  but  different  names,  different  con- 
ceptions, of  that  Incomprehensible  Being  which  no  thought  can 
reach,  and  no  language  express."^  Having  given  to  these  sev- 
eral manifestations  of  the  Divinity  personal  names,  they  now 
sought  to  represent  them  to  the  eye  of  sense  by  visible  forms, 
as  the  symbols  or  images  of  the  perfections  of  the  unseen,  the 
incomprehensible,  the  unknown  God.  And  as  the  Greeks  re- 
garded man  as  the  first  and  noblest  among  the  phenomena  of 
nature,  they  selected  the  human  form  as  the  highest  sensible 
manifestation  of  God,  the  purest  symbol  of  the  Divinity.     Gre- 

*  "  Heathenism  springs  directly  from  this,  that  the  mind  lays  undue  stress 
upon  the  bare  letter  in  the  book  of  creation  ;  that  it  separates  and  individu- 
alizes its  objects  as  far  as  possible  ;  that  it  places  the  sense  of  the  individual 
part,  in  opposition  to  the  sense  of  the  whole, — to  the  mialogia  fidei  or  spiritus 
which  alone  gives  unity  to  the  book  of  nature,  while  it  dilutes  and  renders  as 
transitory  as  possible  the  sense  of  the  universal  in  the  whole.  .  .  .  And  as  it 
laid  great  stress  upon  the  letter  in  the  book  of  nature,  it  fell  into  polytheism. 
The  particular  symbol  of  the  divine,  or  of  the  Godhead,  became  a  myth  of 
some  special  deity." — Lange's  "  Bible-work,"  Genesis,  p.  23. 

"^  Cudworth,  *'  Intellect.  System,"  vol.  i.  p.  308. 

^  Max  Miiller,  "  Science  of  Language,"  p.  431. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


137 


cian  polytheism  was  thus  a  species  of  mythical  anthropomor- 
phism. 

A  philosophy  of  Grecian  mythology,  such  as  we  have  out- 
lined in  the  preceding  paragraphs,  is,  in  our  judgment,  perfectly 
consistent  with  the  views  announced  by  Paul  in  his  address  to 
the  Athenians.  He  intimates  that  the  Athenians  "  thought  that 
the  Godhead  was  like  unto  {/ivai  oixoiov) — to  be  imaged  or  repre- 
sented by  human  art — by  gold,  and  silver,  and  precious  stone 
graven  by  art,  and  device  of  man ;"  that  is,  they  thought  the 
perfections  of  God  could  be  represented  to  the  eye  by  an  im- 
age, or  symbol.  The  views  of  Paul  are  still  more  articulately 
expressed  in  Romans,  i.  23,  25  :  "They  changed  the  glory  of 
the  incorruptible  God  into  the  siitiilitude  of  an  image  of  corrup- 
tible man, ....  and  they  worshipped  and  served  the  thing  made, 
Trapa — rather  than,  or  more  than  the  Creator."  Here,  then,  the 
apostle  intimates,  first,  that  the  heathen  hiew  God,^  and  that 
they  worshipped  God.  They  worshipped  the  creature  besides  or 
even  more  than  God,  but  still  they  also  worshipped  God.  And, 
secondly,  they  represented  the  perfections  of  God  by  an  image, 
and  under  this,  as  a  "  likeness  "  or  symbol,  they  indirectly  wor- 
shipped God.  Their  religious  system  was,  then,  even  to  the 
eye  of  Paul,  a  symbolic  worship — that  is,  the  objects  of  their  de- 
votion were  the  ojioiw/jiaTa — the  similitudes,  the  likenesses,  the 
images  of  the  perfections  of  the  invisible  God. 

It  is  at  once  conceded  by  us,  that  the  "  sensus  numinis,"  the 
natural  intuition  of  a  Supreme  Mind,  whose  power  and  pres- 
ence are  revealed  in  nature,  can  not  maintain  itself,  as  an  influ- 
ential, and  vivifying,  and  regulative  belief  amongst  men,  with- 
out the  continual  supernatural  interposition  of  God ;  that  is, 
without  a  succession  of  Divine  revelations.  And  further,  we 
grant  that,  instead  of  this  symbolic  mode  of  worship  deepening 
and  vitalizing  the  sense  of  God  as  a  living  power  and  presence, 
there  is  great  danger  that  the  symbol  shall  at  length  uncon- 
sciously take  the  place  of  God,  and  be  worshipped  instead  of 
Him.     From  the  purest  form  of  symbolism  which  prevailed  in 

^  Verse  21. 


138  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

the  earliest  ages,  there  may  be  an  inevitable  descent  to  the 
rudest  form  of  false  worship,  with  its  accompanying  darkness, 
and  abominations,  and  crimes ;  but,  at  the  same  time,  let  us 
do  justice  to  the  religions  of  the  ancient  world — the  childhood 
stammerings  of  religious  life — which  were  something  more  than 
the  inventions  of  designing  men,  or  the  mere  creations  of  hu- 
man fancy ;  they  were,  in  the  words  of  Paul,  "  a  seeking  after 
God,  if  haply  they  might  feel  after  him,  and  find  him,  who  is 
not  far  from  any  one  of  us."  It  can  not  be  denied  that  the 
more  thoughtful  and  intelligent  Greeks  regarded  the  visible 
objects  of  their  devotion  as  mere  symbols  of  the  perfections 
and  operations  of  the  unseen  God,  and  of  the  invisible  powers 
and  subordinate  agencies  which  are  employed  by  him  in  his 
providential  and  moral  government  of  the  world.  And  v;hat- 
ever  there  was  of  misapprehension  and  of  "  ignorance  "  in  the 
popular  mind,  we  have  the  assurance  of  Paul  that  it  was  "  over- 
looked^^ by  God. 

The  views  here  presented  will,  we  venture  to  believe,  be 
found  most  in  harmony  with  a  true  philosophy  of  the  human 
mind ;  with  the  religious  phenomena  of  the  world ;  and,  as  we 
shall  subsequently  see,  with  the  writings  of  those  poets  and 
philosophers  who  may  be  fairly  regarded  as  representing  the 
sentiments  and  opinions  of  the  ancient  world.  At  the  same 
time,  we  have  no  desire  to  conceal  the  fact  that  this  whole 
question  as  to  the  origin,  and  character,  and  philosophy  of  the 
mythology  and  symbolism  of  the  religions  of  the  ancient  world 
has  been  a  subject  of  earnest  controversy  from  Patristic  times 
down  to  the  present  hour,  and  that  even  to-day  there  exists  a 
wide  diversity  of  opinion  among  philosophers,  as  well  as  theo- 
logians. 

The  principal  theories  offered  may  be  classed  as  the  ethical, 
the  physical,  and  the  historical,  according  to  the  different  objects 
the  framers  of  the  myths  are  supposed  to  have  had  in  view.^ 
Some  have  regarded  the  myths  as  invented  by  the  priests  and 
wise  men  of  old  for  the  improvement  and  government  of  socie- 
^  Miiller,  "  Science  of  Language,"  2d  series,  p.  41 1. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  139 

ty,  as  designed  to  give  authority  to  laws,  and  maintain  social 
order/  Others  have  regarded  them  as  intended  to  be  allegor- 
ical interpretations  of  physical  phenomena — the  poetic  embodi- 
ment of  the  natural  philosophy  of  the  primitive  races  of  men  f 
whilst  others  have  looked  upon  them  as  historical  legends, 
having  a  substratum  of  fact,  and,  when  stripped  of  the  super- 
natural and  miraculous  drapery  which  accompanies  fable,  as 
containing  the  history  of  primitive  times.^  Some  of  the  latter 
class  have  imagined  they  could  recognize  in  Grecian  mythol- 
ogy traces  of  sacred  personages,  as  well  as  profane;  in  fact, 
a  dimmed  image  of  the  patriarchal  traditions  which  are  pre- 
served in  the  Old  Testament  scriptures.* 

It  is  beyond  our  design  to  discuss  all  the  various  theories 
presented,  or  even  to  give  a  history  of  opinions  entertained/ 
We  are  fully  convinced  that  the  hypothesis  we  have  presented  in 
the  preceding  pages,  viz.,  that  Grecian  mythology  was  a  grand 
symbolic  representation  of  the  Divine  as  manifested  in  nature  and 
providence^  is  the  only  hypothesis  which  meets  and  harmonizes 
all  the  facts  of  the  case.  This  is  the  theory  of  Plato,  of  Cud- 
worth,  Baumgarten,  Max  Muller,  and  many  other  distinguished 
scholars. 

There  are  two  fundamental  propositions  laid  down  by  Cud- 
worth  which  constitute  the  basis  of  this  hypothesis. 

I.  No  well-authenticated  instance  can  be  furnished  from  among 
the  Greek  Polytheists  of  one  who  taught  the  existence  of  a  multiplicity 
of  independent^  uncreated^  self  existent  deities  ;  they  almost  universally 

^  Empedocles,  Metrodorus.  '^  Aristotle. 

^  Hecataeus,  Herodotus,  some  of  the  early  Fathers,  Niebuhr,  J.  H.  Voss, 
Arnold. 

*  Bochart,  G.  J.  Vossius,  Faber,  Gladstone. 

^  To  the  English  reader  who  desires  an  extended  and  accurate  acquaint- 
ance with  the  classic  and  patristic  literature  of  this  deeply  interesting  sub- 
ject, we  commend  the  careful  study  of  Cudworth's  "  Intellectual  System 
of  the  Universe,"  especially  ch.  iv.  The  style  of  Cudworth  is  perplexingly 
involved,  and  his  great  work  is  unmethodical  in  its  arrangement  and  discus- 
sion. Nevertheless,  the  patient  and  persevering  student  will  be  amply  re- 
warded for  his  pains.  A  work  of  more  profound  research  into  the  doctrine 
of  antiquity  concerning  God,  and  into  the  real  import  of  the  religious  systems 
of  the  ancient  world,  is,  probably,  not  extant  in  any  language. 


I40  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

believed  in  the  existejice  of  one  supreme,  uncreated,  eternal 
God,  "  The  Maker  of  all  things^' — "  the  Father  of  gods  and  men,^ 
— "  the  sole  Monarch  and  Rider  of  the  world." 

2.  The  Greek  Polytheists  taught  a  plurality  of  "  generated 
deities,"  who  owe  their  existence  to  the  power  and  will  of  the 
Supreme  God,  who  are  by  Him  invested  with  delegated  powers, 
and  who,  as  the  agetits  of  his  universal  providence,  preside  over 
different  departments  of  the  created  universe. 

The  evidence  presented  by  Cudworth  in  support  of  his  theses 
is  so  varied  and  so  voluminous,  that  it  defies  all  attempts  at 
condensation.  His  volumes  exhibit  an  extent  of  reading,  of 
patient  research,  and  of  varied  learning,  which  is  truly  amazing. 
The  discussion  of  these  propositions  involves,  in  fact,  nothing 
less  than  a  complete  and  exhaustive  survey  of  the  entire  field 
of  ancient  literature,  a  careful  study  of  the  Greek  and  Latin 
poets,  of  the  Oriental,  Greek,  and  Alexandrian  philosophers,  and 
a  review  of  the  statements  and  criticisms  of  Rabbinical  and 
Patristic  writers  in  regard  to  the  religions  of  the  pagan  world. 
An  adequate  conception  of  the  varied  and  weighty  evidence 
which  is  collected  by  our  author  from  these  fields,  in  support 
of  his  views,  could  only  be  conveyed  by  transcribing  to  our 
pages  the  larger  portion  of  his  memorable  y^z/fr//^  chapter.  But 
inasmuch  as  Grecian  polytheism  is,  in  fact,  the  culmination  of 
all  the  mythological  systems  of  the  ancient  world,  the  fully-de- 
veloped flower  and  ripened  fruit  of  the  cosmical  and  theologi- 
cal conceptions  of  the  childhood-condition  of  humanity,  we  pro- 
pose to  epitomize  the  results  of  his  inquiry  as  to  the  theological 
opinions  of  the  Greeks,  supplying  additional  confirmation  of  his 
views  from  other  sources. 

And  first,  he  proves  most  conclusively  that  Orpheus,  Homer, 
and  Hesiod,^  who  are  usually  designated   "  the  theologians  " 

^  We  do  not  concern  ourselves  with  the  chronological  antecedence  of 
these  ancient  Greek  poets.  It  is  of  little  consequence  to  us  whether  Homer 
preceded  Orpheus,  or  Orpheus  Homer.  They  were  not  the  real  creators  of 
the  mythology  of  ancient  Greece.  The  myths  were  a  spontaneous  growth 
of  the  earliest  human  thought  even  before  the  separation  of  the  Aryan  family 
into  its  varied  branches. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  141 

of  Greece,  but  who  were  in  fact  the  depravers  and  corrupters  of 

pagan  theology,  do  not  teach  the  existence  of  a  multitude  of 

unmade  J  self-existent,  and  independent  deities.    Even  they  believed 

in  the  existence  of  one  uncreated  and  eternal  mind,  one  Supreme 

God,  anterior  and  superior  to  all  the  gods  of  their  mythology. 

They  had  some  intuition,  some  apperception  of  the  Divine,  even 

before  they  had  attached  to  it  a  sacred  name.     The  gods  of 

their  mythology  had  all,  save  one,  a  temporal  origin  ;  they  were 

generated  of  Chaos  and  Night,  by  an  active  principle  called 

Love.     "  One  might  suspect,"  says  Aristotle,  "  that  Hesiod,  and 

if  there  be  any  other  who  made  love  or  desire  a  principle  of 

things,  aimed  at  these  very  things  (viz.,  the  designation  of  the 

efficient  cause  of  the  world);  for  Parmenides,  describing  the 

generation  of  the  universe,  says  : 

"  *  First  of  all  the  gods  planned  he  love  ;^ 

and  further,  Hesiod  : 

"  *  First  of  all  was  Chaos,  afterwards  Earth, 
With  her  spacious  bosom, 
And  Love,  who  is  pre-eminent  among  all  the  immortals  ;' 

as  intimating  here  that  in  entities  there  should  exist  some  cause 
that  will  impart  motion,  and  hold  bodies  in  union  together. 
But  how,  in  regard  to  these,  one  ought  to  distribute  them,  as 
to  the  order  of  priority,  can  be  decided  afterwards."^ 

Now  whether  this  "first  principle,"  called  "Z^z^^,"  "the 
cause  of  motion  and  of  union  "  in  the  universe,  was  regarded  as 
a  personal  Being,  and  whether,  as  the  ancient  scholiast  taught, 
Hesiod's  love  was  "the  heavenly  Love,  which  is  also  God,  that 
other  love  that  was  born  of  Venus  being  junior,"  is  just  now  of 
no  moment  to  the  argument.     The  more  important  inference  is, 


The  study  of  Comparative  Mythology,  as  well  as  of  Comparative  Lan- 
guage, assures  us  that  the  myths  had  an  origin  much  earlier  than  the  times 
of  Homer  and  Orpheus.  They  floated  down  from  ages  on  the  tide  of  oral 
tradition  before  they  were  systematized,  embellished,  and  committed  to  writing 
by  Homer,  and  Orpheus,  and  Hesiod.  And  between  the  systems  of  these 
three  poets  a  perceptible  difference  is  recognizable,  which  reflects  the  changes 
that  verbal  recitations  necessarily  and  imperceptibly  undergo. 

^  "  Metaphysics,"  bk.  i.  ch.  iv. 


142  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

that  amongst  the  gods  of  Pagan  theology  but  one  is  self-existent, 
or  else  none  are.  Because  the  Hesiodian  gods,  which  are,  in  fact, 
all  the  gods  of  the  Greek  mythology,  "  were  either  all  of  them 
derived  from  chaos,  love  itself  likewise  being  generated  out  of 
it ;  or  else  love  was  supposed  to  be  distinct  from  chaos,  and 
the  active  principle  of  the  universe,  from  whence,  together  with 
chaos,  all  the  theogony  and  cosmogony  was  derived."*  Hence 
it  is  evident  the  poets  did  not  teach  the  existence  of  a  multi- 
plicity of  unmade,  self-existent,  independent  deities. 

The  careful  reader  of  Cudworth  will  also  learn  another  truth 
of  the  utmost  importance  in  this  connection,  viz.,  that  the  the- 
ogony of  the  Greek  poets  was,  in  fact,  a  cosmogony,  the  generation 
of  the  gods  being,  in  reality,  the  generation  of  the  heavens,  the 
sun,  the  moon,  the  stars,  and  all  the  various  powers  and  phe- 
nomena of  nature.  This  is  dimly  shadowed  forth  in  the  very 
names  which  are  given  to  some  of  these  divinities.  Thus  He- 
lios is  the  sun,  Selena  is  the  moon,  Zeus  the  sky — the  deep 
blue  heaven,  Eos  the  dawn,  and  Erse  the  dew.  It  is  rendered 
still  more  evident  by  the  opening  lines  of  Hesiod's  "  Theogonia," 
in  which  he  invokes  the  muses  : 

"  Hail  ye  daughters  of  Jupiter !     Grant  a  delightsome  song. 
Tell  of  the  race  of  immortal  gods,  always  existing, 
Who  are  the  offspring  of  the  earth,  of  the  starry  sky, 
And  of  the  gloomy  night,  whom  also  the  ocean  nourisheth. 
Tell  how  the  gods  and  the  earth  at  first  were  made. 
And  the  rivers,  and  the  mighty  deep,  boiling  with  waves, 
And  the  glowing  stars,  and  the  broad  heavens  above, 
And  the  gods,  givers  of  good,  born  of  these." 

Where  we  see  plainly  that  the  generation  of  the  gods  is  the 
generation  of  the  earth,  the  heaven,  the  stars,  the  seas,  the  riv- 
ers, and  other  things  produced  by  them.  "But  immediately 
after  invocation  of  the  Muses  the  poet  begins  with  Chaos,  and 
Tartara,  and  Love,  as  the  first  principles,  and  then  proceeds  to 
the  production  of  the  earth  and  of  night  out  of  chaos  ;  of  the 
ether  and  of  day,  from  night ;  of  the  starry  heavens,  mountains, 
and  seas.  All  which  generation  of  gods  is  really  nothing  but 
'  "  Cudworth,"  vol.  i.  p.  287. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  I43 

a  poetic  description  of  the  cosmogonia ;  as  through  the  sequel 
of  the  poem  all  seems  to  be  physiology  veiled  under  fiction 
and  allegory.  .  .  .  Hesiod's  gods  are  thus  not  only  the  ani- 
mated parts  of  the  world,  but  also  the  other  things  of  nature 
personified  and  deified,  or  abusively  called  gods  and  goddess- 
es."^ The  same  is  true  both  of  the  Orphic  and  Homeric  gods. 
"  Their  generation  of  the  gods  is  the  same  with  the  generation 
or  creation  of  the  world,  both  of  them  having,  in  all  probability, 
derived  it  from  the  Mosaic  cabala,  or  tradition."^ 

But  in  spite  of  all  this  mythological  obscuration,  the  belief 
in  one  Supreme  God  is  here  and  there  most  clearly  recogniza- 
ble. "That  Zeus  was  originally  to  the  Greeks  the  Supreme 
God,  the  true  God — nay,  at  some  time  their  only  God — can  be 
perceived  in  spite  of  the  haze  which  mythology  has  raised 
around  his  name.""  True,  they  sometimes  used  the  word 
"Zeus"  in  a  physical  sense  to  denote  the  deep  expanse  of  heav- 
en, and  sometimes  in  a  historic  sense,  to  designate  a  hero  or 
deified  man  said  to  have  been  born  in  Crete.  It  is  also  true 
that  the  Homeric  Zeus  is  full  of  contradictions.  He  is  "  all-see- 
ing," yet  he  is  cheated  ;  he  is  "  omnipotent,"  yet  he  is  defied ; 
he  is  "eternal,"  yet  he  has  a  father;  he  is  "just,"  yet  he  is 
guilty  of  crime.  Now,  as  Mtiller  very  justly  remarks,  these  con- 
tradictions may  teach  us  a  lesson.  If  all  the  conceptions  of 
Zeus  had  sprung  from  one  origin,  these  contradictions  could 
not  have  existed.  If  Zeus  had  simply  and  only  meant  the  Su- 
preme God,  he  could  not  have  been  the  son  of  Kronos  (Time). 
If,  on  the  other  hand,  Zeus  had  been  a  mere  mythological  per- 
sonage, as  Eos,  the  dawn,  and  Helios,  the  sun,  he  could  never 
have  been  addressed  as  he  is  addressed  in  the  famous  prayer 
of  Achilles  (Iliad,  bk.  xxi.).* 

In  Homer  there  is  a  perpetual  blending  of  the  natural  and 
the  supernatural,  the  human  and  divine.  The  Iliad  is  an  in- 
congruous medley  of  theology,  physics,  and  history.  In  its 
gorgeous  scenic  representations,  nature,  humanity,  and  deity  are 

*  Cudworth,  vol.  i.  pp.  321,  332.  ^  Id.,  ib.,  vol.  i.  p.  478. 

^  Max  Miiller,  "  Science  of  Language,"  p.  457.       *  Id.,  ib.,  p.  458. 


144  CHBISTIANITY  AND 

mingled  in  inextricable  confusion.  The  gods  are  sometimes 
supernatural  and  superhuman  personages ;  sometimes  the 
things  and  powers  of  nature  personified ;  and  sometimes  they 
are  deified  men.  And  yet  there  are  passages,  even  in  Homer, 
which  clearly  distinguish  Zeus  from  all  the  other  divinities, 
and  mark  him  out  as  the  Supreme.  He  is  "  the  highest,  first 
of  Gods"  (bk.  xix.  284);  "most  great,  most  glorious  Jove" 
(bk.  ii.  474).  He  is  "the  universal  Lord"  (bk.  xi.  229);  "of 
mortals  and  immortals  king  supreme,"  (bk.  xii.  263);  "over 
all  the  immortal  gods  he  reigns  in  unapproached  pre-eminence 
of  power"  (bk.  xv.  125).  He  is  "the  King  of  kings"  (bk.  viii. 
35),  whose  "wall  is  sovereign"  (bk.  iv.  65),  and  his  "power 
invincible"  (bk.  viii.  35).  He  is  the  "eternal  Father"  (bk. 
viii.  77).  He  "excels  in  wisdom  gods  and  men;  all  human 
things  from  him  proceed"  (bk.  xiii.  708-10);  "the  Lord  of 
counsel"  (bk.  i.  208),  "the  all-seeing  Jove"  (bk.  xiii.  824).  In- 
deed the  mere  expression  "  Father  of  gods  and  men "  (bk.  i. 
639),  so  often  applied  to  Zeus,  and  him  alone,  is  proof  sufficient 
that,  in  spite  of  all  the  legendary  stories  of  gods  and  heroes,  the 
idea  of  Zeus  as  the  Supreme  God,  the  maker  of  the  world,  the 
Father  of  gods  and  men,  the  monarch  and  ruler  of  the  world, 
was  not  obliterated  from  the  Greek  mind.' 

"When  Homer  introduces  Eumaios,  the  swineherd,  speak- 
ing of  this  life  and  the  higher  powers  that  rule  it,  he  knows 

^  "  In  the  order  of  legendary  chronology  Zeus  comes  after  Kronos  and 
Uranos,  but  in  the  order  of  Grecian  conception  Zeus  is  the  prominent  per- 
son, and  Kronos  and  Uranos  are  inferior  and  introductory  precursors,  set  up 
in  order  to  be  overthrown,  and  to  serve  as  mementos  of  the  powers  of  their 
conqueror.  To  Homer  and  Hesiod,  as  well  as  to  the  Greeks  universally, 
Zeus  is  the  great,  the  predominant  God,  '  the  Father  of  gods  and  men,' 
whose  power  none  of  the  gods  can  hope  to  resist,  or  even  deliberately  think 
of  questioning.  All  the  other  gods  have  their  specific  potency,  and  peculiar 
sphere  of  action  and  duty,  with  which  Zeus  does  not  usually  interfere  ;  but 
it  is  he  who  maintains  the  lineaments  of  a  providential  government,  as  well 
over  the  phenomena  of  Olympus  as  over  the  earth." — Grote,  "  Hist,  of 
Greece,"  vol.  i.  p.  3. 

**  Zeus  is  not  only  lord  of  heaven  but  likewise  the  ruler  of  the  lower  world, 
and  the  master  of  the  sea." — Welcher,  "  Griechische  Gotterlehre,"  vol.  i.  p. 
164.    The  Zeus  of  the  Greek  poets  is  unquestionably  the  god  of  whom  Paul 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


I4i 


only  of  just  gods  '  who  hate  cruel  deeds,  but  honor  justice  and 
the  righteous  works  of  men'  (Od.  xiv.  83).  His  whole  life  is 
built  up  on  a  complete  trust  in  the  divine  government  of  the 
world  without  any  artificial  helps,  as  the  Erinys,  the  Nemesis, 
or  Moira.  *  Eat,'  says  the  swineherd,  *  and  enjoy  what  is  here, 
for  God^  will  grant  one  thing,  but  another  he  will  refuse,  what- 
ever he  will  in  his  mind,  for  he  can  do  all  things '  (Od.  xiv. 
444 ;  X.  306).  This  surely  is  religion,  and  it  is  religion  un- 
tainted "by  mythology.  Again,  the  prayer  of  the  female  slave, 
grinding  corn  in  the  house  of  Ulysses  is  religious  in  the  truest 
sense — *  Father  Zeus,  thou  who  rulest  over  gods  and  men,  sure- 
ly thou  hast  just  thundered  in  the  starry  sky,  and  there  is  no 
cloud  anywhere.  Thou  showest  this  as  a  sign  to  some  one. 
Fulfill  now,  even  to  me,  miserable  wretch,  the  prayer  which  I 
now  offer'  "  (Od.  xx.  141-150).'* 

The  Greek  tragedians  were  the  great  religious  instructors  of 
the  Athenian  people.  "  Greek  tragedy  grew  up  in  connection 
with  religious  worship,  and  constituted  not  only  a  popular  but 
a  sacred  element  in  the  festivals  of  the  gods.  ...     In  short, 

declared,  "  In  him  we  live  and  move,  and  have  our  being,  as  certain  of  your 
own  poets  have  also  said — 

'* '  For  we  are  his  ofTspring.' " 
Now  whether  this  be  a  quotation  from  Aratus  or  Cleanthes,  the  language  of 
the  poets  is,  "  We  are  the  offspring  of  Zeus  ;"  consequently  the  Zeus  of  the 
poets  and  the  God  of  Christianity  are  the  same  God. 

"The  father  of  gods  and  men  in  Homer  is,  of  course,  the  Universal  Fa- 
ther of  the  Scriptures." — Tyler,  '<  Theology  of  Greek  Poets,"  p.  171. 

^  No  sound  reason  can  be  assigned  for  translating  deo^  by  "  a  god  "  as 
some  have  proposed,  rather  than  "  God^  But  even  if  it  were  translated 
"  a  god,"  this  god  must  certainly  be  understood  as  Zeus.  Plato  tells  us 
that  Zeus  is  the  most  appropriate  name  for  God.  "  For  in  reality  the  name 
Zeus  is,  as  it  were,  a  sentence  ;  and  persons  dividing  it  in  two  parts,  some 
of  us  make  use  of  one  part,  and  some  of  another ;  for  some  call  him  Zr/v,  and 
some  A/f.  But  these  parts,  collected  together  into  one,  exhibit  the  nature  of 
the  God  ;  ...  for  there  is  no  one  who  is  more  the  cause  of  living,  both  to 
us  and  every  thing  else,  than  he  who  is  the  ruler  and  king  of  all.  It  follows, 
therefore,  that  this  god  is  rightly  named,  through  whom  life  is  present  in  all 
living  beings." — Cratylus,  §  28. 

QeoQ  was  usually  employed,  says  Cud  worth,  to  designate  God  by  way  of 
pre-eminence,  dcoi  to  designate  inferior  divinities. 

'^  Miiller,  "  Science  of  Language,"  p.  434. 

]0 


146  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

Strange  as  it  may  sound  to  modern  ears,  the  Greek  stage  was, 
more  nearly  than  any  thing  else,  the  Greek  pulpit.*  With  a 
priesthood  that  offered  sacrifice,  but  did  not  preach,  with  few 
books  of  any  kind,  the  people  were,  in  a  great  measure,  de- 
pendent on  oral  instruction  for  knowledge ;  and  as  they  learn- 
ed their  rights  and  duties  as  citizens  from  their  orators,  so 
they  hung  on  the  lips  of  the  *  lofty,  grave  tragedians '  for  in- 
struction touching  their  origin,  duty,  and  destiny  as  mortal  and 
immortal  beings.  .  .  .  Greek  tragedy  is  essentially  didactic, 
ethical,  mythological,  and  religious."^ 

Now  it  is  unquestionable  that,  with  the  tragedians,  Zeus  is 
the  Supreme  God.  ^schylus  is  pre-eminently  the  theological 
poet  of  Greece.  The  great  problems  which  lie  at  the  founda- 
tion of  religious  faith  and  practice  are  the  main  staple  of  near- 
ly all  his  tragedies.  Homer,  Hesiod,  the  sacred  poets,  had 
looked  at  these  questions  in  their  purely  poetic  aspects.  The 
subsequent  philosophers,  Plato  and  Aristotle,  developed  them 
more  fully  by  their  didactic  method,  ^schylus  stands  on  the 
dividing -line  between  them,  no  less  poetic  than  the  former, 
scarcely  less  philosophical  than  the  latter,  but  more  intensely 
practical,  personal,  and  theological  than  either.  The  character 
of  the  Supreme  Divinity,  as  represented  in  his  tragedies,  ap- 
proaches more  nearly  to  the  Christian  idea  of  God.  "  He  is 
the  Universal  Father — Father  of  gods  and  men  ;  the  Universal 
Cause  {iravaiTLOQ,  Agamem.  1485);  the  All-seer  and  All-doer 
{iravTOTrTriQ,  TravepyiTrjg,  ibid,  and  Sup.  139);  the  All-wise  and 
All-controlling  {TraytcpartjQy  Sup.  813);  the  Just  and  the  Execu- 
tor of  justice  (^tKi](l)6pog,  Agamem.  525);  true  and  incapable  of 
falsehood  (Prom.  103 1) ; 

rpevSjiyogeiv  yag  ovk  kirioTaTaj.  crdjia 
TO  dlov,  aX7M,  Tzav  iKog  relel, — 

holy  (ayvoc,  Sup.  650);  merciful  {irpEv^hriQ,  ibid.  139);  the  God 
especially  of  the  suppliant  and  the  stranger  (Supplices,  pas- 
sim) ;  the  most  high  and  perfect  One  -{reXeioy  vxlyiarovj  Eumen. 

*  Pulpitum,  a  stage. 

^  Tyler,  •'  Theology  of  Greek  Poets,"  pp.  205,  206. 


GREEK  PEILOSOniT.  147 

28)  j  King  of  kings,  of  the  happy,  most  happy,  of  the  perfect, 
most  perfect  power,  blessed  Zeus  (Sup.  522)."^  Such  are  some 
of  the  titles  by  which  Zeus  is  most  frequently  addressed  ;  such 
the  attributes  commonly  ascribed  to  him  in  ^schylus. 

Sophocles  was  the  great  master  who  carried  Greek  tragedy 
to  its  highest  perfection.  Only  seven  out  of  more  than  a  hun- 
dred of  his  tragedies  have  come  down  to  us.  There  are  passa- 
ges cited  by  Justin  Martyr,  Clemens  Alexandrinus,  and  others 
which  are  not  found  in  those  tragedies  now  extant.  The  most 
famous  and  extensively  quoted  passage  is  given  by  Cudworth.' 

Elf  toIq  aljjUeiaiGtv,  eig  eanv  debg, 

"Og  ovgavov  r'  erev^e  kuI  yalav  jxaKpav^ 

Tl.6vrqv  re  xaQoirbv  oldfj.a,  mvefxcdv  (3lav,  k.  r.  A.^ 

This  "  one  only  God  "  is  Zeus,  who  is  the  God  of  justice,  and 
reigns  supreme  : 

"  Still  in  yon  starry  heaven  supreme, 
Jove,  all -beholding,  all-directing,  dwells — 
To  him  commit  thy  vengeance." — *' Electra,"  p.  174  sqq. 

This  description  of  the  unsleeping,  undecaying  power  and  do- 
minion of  Zeus  is  worthy  of  some  Hebrew  prophet — 

"  Spurning  the  power  of  age,  enthroned  in  might, 
Thou  dwell'st  mid  heaven's  broad  light; 
This  was  in  ages  past  thy  firm  decree, 
Is  now,  and  shall  forever  be  : 
That  none  of  mortal  race  on  earth  shall  know 
A  life  of  joy  serene,  a  course  unmarked  by  woe." 

"  Antigone,"  pp.  606-614.* 

Whether  we  regard  the  poets  as  the  principal  theological 
teachers  of  the  ancient  Greeks,  or  as  the  compilers,  systemati- 
zers,  and  artistic  embellishers  of  the  theological  traditions  and 
myths  which  were  afloat  in  the  primitive  Hellenic  families,  we 
can  not  resist  the  conclusion  that,  for  the  masses  of  the  people 
Zeus  was  the  Supreme  God,  "  the  God  of  gods  "  as  Plato  calls 

^  Tyler,  "Theology  of  Greek  Poets,"  pp.  213,  214. 
^  "  Intellectual  Syst.,"  vol.  i.  p.  483. 

^  "  There  is,  in  truth,  one  only  God,  who  made  heaven  and  earth,  the  sea, 
air,  and  winds,"  etc. 

*  "  Theology  of  Greek  Poets,"  p.  322. 


148  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

him.  Whilst  all  other  deities  in  Greece  are  more  or  less  local 
and  tribal  gods,  Zeus  was  known  in  every  village  and  to  every 
clan.  "  He  is  at  home  on  Ida,'  on  Olympus,  at  Dodona.' 
While  Poseidon  drew  to  himself  the  ^olian  family,  Apollo  the 
Dorian,  Athene  the  Ionian,  there  was  one  powerful  God  for  all 
the  sons  of  Hellen — Dorians,  Cohans,  lonians,  Achaeans,  viz., 
the  Panhellenic  Zeus."^  Zeus  was  the  name  invoked  in  their 
solemn  nuncupations  of  vows — 

"  O  Zeus,  father,  O  Zeus,  king." 

In  moments  of  deepest  sorrow,  of  immediate  urgency  and  need, 
of  greatest  stress  and  danger,  they  had  recourse  to  Zeus. 

"  Courage,  courage,  my  child  ! 
There  is  still  in  heaven  the  great  Zeus ; 
He  watches  over  all  things,  and  he  rules. 
Commit  thy  exceeding  bitter  griefs  to  him, 
And  be  not  angry  against  thine  enemies, 
Nor  forget  them,"* 

He  was  supplicated,  as  the  God  who  reigns  on  high,  in  the 
prayer  of  the  Athenian — 

*'  Rain,  rain,  O  dear  Zeus,  on  the  land  of  the  Athenians  and  on  their 
fields." 

It  has  been  urged  that,  as  Zeus  means  the  sky,  therefore  he 
is  no  more  than  the  deep  concave  of  heaven  personified  and 
deified,  and  that  consequently  Zeus  is  not  the  true,  the  only 
God.  This  argument  is  only  equalled  in  feebleness  by  that  of 
the  materialist,  who  argues  that  "  spiritus  "  means  simply  breath, 
therefore  the  breath  is  the  soul.  Even  if  the  Greeks  remember- 
ed that,  originally,  Zeus  meant  the  sky,  that  would  have  no  more 
perplexed  their  minds  than  the  remembrance  that  "thymos" — 
mind — meant  originally  blast.  "  The  fathers  of  Greek  theology 
gave  to  that  Supreme  Intelligence,  which  they  instinctively  rec- 
ognized as  above  and  ruling  over  the  universe,  the  name  of 
Zeus  ;  but  in  doing  so,  they  knew  well  that  by  Zeus  they  meant 
more  than  the  sky.     The  unfathomable  depth,  the  everlasting 

.*  "  Iliad,"  bk  iii.  324.  ■  Bk.  xvi.  268. 

'  Muller,  p.  452.  *  Sophocles,  "  Electra,"  v.  188. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  I4(^ 

calm  of  the  ethereal  sky  was  to  their  minds  an  image  of  that  In- 
finite Presence  which  overshadows  all,  and  looks  down  on  all. 
As  the  question  perpetually  recurred  to  their  minds,  *  Where  is 
he  who  abideth  forever  V  they  lifted  up  their  eyes,  and  saw,  as 
they  thought,  beyond  sun,  and  moon,  and  stars,  and  all  which 
changes,  and  will  change,  the  clear  blue  sky,  the  boundless  fir- 
mament of  heaven.  That  never  changed,  that  was  always  the 
same.  The  clouds  and  storms  rolled  far  below  it,  and  all  the 
bustle  of  this  noisy  world  ;  but  there  the  sky  was  still,  as  bright 
and  calm  as  ever.  The  Almighty  Father  must  be  there,  un- 
changeable in  the  unchangeable  heaven ;  bright,  and  pure,  and 
boundless  like  the  heavens,  and  like  the  heavens,  too,  afar  off."^ 
So  they  named  him  after  the  sky,  Zeics^  the  God  who  lives  in  the 
clear  heaven — the  heavenly  Father. 

The  high  and  brilliant  sky  has,  in  many  languages  and  many 
religions,  been  regarded  as  the  dwelling-place  of  God.  Indeed, 
to  all  of  us  in  Christian  times  "  God  is  above  ;"  he  is  "  the  God 
of  heaven  ;"  "  his  throne  is  in  the  heavens  ;"  "  he  reigns  on 
high."  Now,  without  doing  any  violence  to  thought,  the  name 
of  the  abode  might  be  transferred  to  him  who  dwells  in  heaven. 
So  that  in  our  own  language  "heaven"  may  still  be  used  as  a 
synonym  for  "  God."  The  prodigal  son  is  still  represented  as 
saying,  I  have  sinned  against  '•''heaven^  And  a  Christian  poet 
has  taught  us  to  sing — 

"High  heaven,  that  heard  my  solemn  vow, 
That  vow  renewed  shall  daily  hear,"  etc. 

Whenever,  therefore,  we  find  the  name  of  heaven  thus  used  to 
designate  also  the  Deity,  we  must  bear  in  mind  that  those  by 
whom  it  was  originally  employed  were  simply  transferring  that 
name  from  an  object  visible  to  the  eye  of  sense  to  another  object 
perceived  by  the  eye  of  reason.  They  who  at  first  called  God 
"  Heaven  "  had  some  conception  within  them  they  wished  to 
name — the  growing  image  of  a  God,  and  they  fixed  upon  the 
vastest,  grandest,  purest  object  in  nature,  the  deep  blue  con- 
cave of  heaven,  overshadowing  all,  and  embracing  all,  as  the 
^  Kingsley,  "  Good  News  from  God,"  p.  237,  Am.  ed. 


I50  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

symbol  of  the  Deity.  Those  who  at  a  later  period  called  heaven 
^^God"  had  forgotten  that  they  were  predicating  of  heaven  some- 
thing more  which  was  vastly  higher  than  the  heaven.^ 

Notwithstanding,  then,  that  the  instinctive,  native  faith  of 
humanity  in  the  existence  of  one  supreme  God  was  overlaid 
and  almost  buried  beneath  the  rank  and  luxuriant  vegetation 
of  Grecian  mythology,  we  can  still  catch  glimpses  here  and 
there  of  the  solid  trunk  of  native  faith,  around  which  this  para- 
sitic growth  of  fancy  is  entwined.  Above  all  the  phantasmata 
of  gods  and  goddesses  who  descended  to  the  plains  of  Troy, 
and  mingled  in  the  din  and  strife  of  battle,  we  can  recognize 
an  overshadowing,  all-embracing  Power  and  Providence  that 
dwells  on  high,  which  never  descends  into  the  battle-field,  and 
is  never  seen  by  mortal  eyes — the  Universal  King  and  Father^ 
— the ''God  of  gods :' 

Besides  the  direct  evidence,  which  is  furnished  by  the  poets 
and  mythologists,  of  the  presence  of  this  universal  faith  in  "  the 
heavenly  Father^''  there  is  also  a  large  amount  of  collateral  tes- 
timony that  this  idea  of  one  Supreme  God  was  generally  enter- 
tained by  the  Greek  pagans,  whether  learned  or  unlearned.'' 
Dio  Chrysostomus  says  that  "  all  the  poets  call  the  first  and 
greatest  God  the  Father,  universally,  of  all  rational  kind,  as 
also  the  King  thereof  Agreeably  with  which  doctrine  of  the 
poets  do  mankind  erect  altars  to  Jupiter-King  (Atoc  (3a(n\iiog) 
and  hesitate  not  to  call  him  Father  in  their  devotions  "  (Orat. 
xxxvi.).  And  Maximus  Tyrius  declares  that  both  the  learned 
and  the  unlearned  throughout  the  pagan  world  universally 
agree  in  this ;  that  there  is  one  Supreme  God,  the  Father  of 
gods  and  men.  "  If,"  says  he,  "  there  were  a  meeting  called 
of  all  the  several  trades  and  professions, and  all  were  re- 
quired to  declare  their  sense  concerning  God,  do  you  think 
that  the  painter  would  say  one  thing,  the  sculptor  another,  the 
poet  another,  and  the  philosopher  another  ?  No ;  nor  the 
Scythian  neither,  nor  the  Greek,  nor  the  hyperborean.     In  re- 

^  See  "  Science  of  Language,"  p.  457. 
'  Cudworth,  vol.  i.  pp.  593,  594. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  151 

» 
gard  to  other  things,  we  find  men  speaking  discordantly  one  to 
another,  all  men,  as  it  were,  differing  from  all  men Never- 
theless, on  this  subject,  you  may  find  universally  throughout 
the  world  one  agreeing  law  and  opinion  ;  that  there  is  ojie  God, 
the  King  and  Father  of  all,  and  many  gods,  the  sons  of  God,  co- 
reigners  together  with  God"  (Diss.  i.  p.  450). 

From  the  poets  we  now  pass  to  the  philosophers.  The 
former  we  have  regarded  as  reflecting  the  traditional  beliefs  of 
the  unreasoning  multitude.  The  philosophers  unquestionably 
represent  the  reflective  spirit,  the  speculative  thought,  of  the 
educated  classes  of  Greek  society.  Turning  to  the  writings  of 
the  philosophers,  we  may  therefore  reasonably  expect  that,  in- 
stead of  the  dim,  undefined,  and  nebulous  form  in  which  the 
religious  sentiment  revealed  itself  amongst  the  unreflecting 
portions  of  the  Greek  populations,  we  shall  find  their  theologi- 
cal ideas  distinctly  and  articulately  expressed,  and  that  we  shall 
consequently  be  able  to  determine  their  religious  opinions  with 
considerable  accuracy. 

Now  that  Thales,  Pythagoras,  Xenophanes,  Anaxagoras, 
Empedocles,  Socrates,  Plato,  and  Aristotle  were  all  believers 
in  the  existence  of  one  supreme,  uncreated,  eternal  God,  has 
been,  we  think,  clearly  shown  by  Cud  worth.  ^ 

In  subsequent  chapters  on  "the  Philosophers  of  Athens,"  we 
shall  enter  more  fully  into  the  discussion  of  this  question. 
Meantime  we  assume  that,  with  few  exceptions,  the  Greek  phi- 
losophers were  "  genuine  Theists." 

The  point,  however,  with  which  we  are  now  concerned  is, 
that  whilst  they  believed  in  one  supreme,  uncreated,  eternal  God, 
they  at  the  same  time  recognized  the  existence  of  a  plurality  of  gen- 
erated deities  who  owe  their  existetice  to  the  power  and  will  of  the 
Supreme  God,  and  who,  as  the  agents  and  ministers  of  His  univer- 
sal providence,  preside  over  different  departments  of  the  created 
universe.  They  are  at  once  Monotheists  and  Polytheists — be- 
lievers in  "one  God  "  and  "  many  gods."  This  is  a  peculiari- 
^  Vol.  i.  pp.  491-554. 


152  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

ty,  an  anomaly  which  challenges  our  attention,  and  demands 
an  explanation,  if  we  would  vindicate  for  these  philosophers  a 
rational  Theism. 

Now  that  there  can  be  but  one  infinite  and  absolutely  perfect 
Being — one  supreme,  uncreated,  eternal  God — is  self-evident ; 
therefore  a  multiplicity  of  such  gods  is  a  contradiction  and  an 
impossibility.  The  early  philosophers  knew  this  as  well  as  the 
modern.  The  Deity,  in  order  to  be  Deity,  must  be  one  and 
not  many  :  must  be  perfect  or  nothing.  If,  therefore,  we  would 
do  justice  to  these  old  Greeks,  we  must  inquire  what  explana- 
tions they  have  offered  in  regard  to  "  the  many  gods  "  of  which 
they  speak.  We  must  ascertain  whether  they  regarded  these 
"gods  "  as  created  or  uncreated  beings,  dependent  or  indepen- 
dent, temporal  or  eternal.  We  must  inquire  in  what  sense  the 
term  "  god  "  is  applied  to  these  lesser  divinities, — whether  it  is 
not  applied  in  an  accommodated  and  therefore  allowable 
sense,  as  in  the  sacred  Scriptures  it  is  applied  to  kings  and 
magistrates,  and  those  who  are  appointed  by  God  as  the  teach- 
ers and  rulers  of  men.  ^^They  are  called  gods  to  whom  the  word 
of  God  came."^  And  if  it  shall  be  found  that  all  the  gods  of 
which  they  speak,  save  one,  are  "  generated  deities  " — depend- 
ent beings  —  creatures  and  subjects  of  the  one  eternal  King 
and  Father,  and  that  the  name  of  "god"  is  applied  to  them  in 
an  accommodated  sense,  then  we  have  vindicated  for  the  old 
Greek  philosophers  a  consistent  and  rational  Theism.  In  what 
relation,  then,  do  the  philosophers  place  "  the  gods  "  to  the  one 
Supreme  Being  ? 

Thales,  one  of  the  most  ancient  of  the  Greek  philosophers, 
taught  the  existence  of  a  plurality  of  gods,  as  is  evident  from 
that  saying  of  his,  preserved  by  Diogenes  Laertius,  "  The  world 
has  life,  and  is  full  of  gods."*  At  the  same  time  he  asserts  his 
belief  in  one  supreme,  uncreated  Deity ;  "  God  is  the  oldest  of 
all  things,  because  he  is  unmade,  or  ungenerated."^     All  the 

^  See  John  x.  35. 

"  "Lives,"  bk.  i. ;  sec  also  Aristotle's  "De  Anima,"  bk. i.  ch.  viii.  Travra 
deuv  TTATjpT],  ^  "  Lives,"  bk.  i. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  153 

Other  gods  must  therefore  have  been  "  generated  deities,"  since 
there  is  but  one  unmade  God,  one  only  that  had  "  no  begin- 
ning."' 

Xenophanes  was  also  an  assertor  of  many  gods,  and  one  God  ; 
but  his  one  God  is  unquestionably  supreme.  "  There  is  one 
God,  the  greatest  amongst  gods  and  men  ;"  or,  "  God  is  one,  the 
greatest  amongst  gods  and  men."^ 

Empedodes  also  believed  in  one  Supreme  God,  who  "is 
wholly  and  perfectly  mind,  ineffable,  holy,  with  rapid  and  swift- 
glancing  thought  pervading  the  whole  world,"  and  from  whom 
all  things  else  are  derived, — "  all  things  that  are  upon  the  earth, 
and  in  the  air  and  water,  may  be  truly  called  the  works  of  God, 
who  ruleth  over  the  world,  out  of  whom,  according  to  Em- 
pedocles,  proceed  all  things,  plants,  men,  beasts,  and  godsT^ 
The  minor  deities  are  therefore  made  by  God.  It  will  not  be 
denied  that  Socrates  was  a  devout  and  earnest  Theist.  He 
taught  that  "  there  is  a  Being  whose  eye  pierces  throughout  all 
nature,  and  whose  ear  is  open  to  every  sound  ;  extending  through 
all  time,  extended  to  all  places  ;  and  whose  bounty  and  care  can 
know  no  other  bounds  than  those  fixed  by  his  own  creation."* 
And  yet  he  also  recognized  the  existence  of  a  plurality  of  gods, 
and  in  his  last  moments  expressed  his  belief  that  "  it  is  lawful 
and  right  to  pray  to  the  gods  that  his  departure  hence  may  be 
happy."^  We  see,  however,  in  his  words  addressed  to  Euthy- 
demus,  a  marked  distinction  between  these  subordinate  deities 
and  "  Him  who  raised  this  whole  universe,  and  still  upholds 
the  mighty  frame,  who  perfected  every  part  of  it  in  beauty  and 
in  goodness,  suffering  none  of  these  parts  to  decay  through  age, 
but  renewing  them  daily  with  unfading  vigor  ;  .  .  .  .  even  he, 
the  Supreme  God^  still  holds  himself  invisible,  and  it  is  only 
in  his  works  that  we  are  capable  of  admiring  him."^ 

It  were  needless  to  attempt  the  proof  that  Plato  believed  in 
one  Supreme  God,  and  ottly  one.     This  one  Being  is,  with  him, 

^  "  Lives,"  bk.  i.  ^  "^  Clem.  Alex.,  "  Stromat."  bk.  v. 

^  Aristotle,  "  De  Mundo,"  ch.  vi.  '^  Xenophon's  "  Memorabilia,"  i.  4. 

^  "  Phaedo,"  §  152.  ^  "  Memorabilia,"  iv.  3. 


P! 


154  CHRISTIANITY  AND 


"  the  first  God ;"  "  the  greatest  of  the  gods  ;"  "  the  God  over 
all ;"  "  the  sole  Principle  of  the  universe."  He  is  "  the  Immu- 
table ;"  "  the  All-perfect ;"  "  the  eternal  Being."  He  is  "the 
Architect  of  the  world  ;"  "  the  Maker  of  the  universe  ;"  "  the  Fa- 
ther of  gods  and  men  ;"  "  the  sovereign  Mind  which  orders  all 
things,  and  passes  through  all  things ;"  "  the  sole  Monarch  and 
Ruler  of  the  world."' 

And  yet  remarkable  as  these  expressions  are,  sounding,  as 
they  do,  so  like  the  language  of  inspiration,*^  there  can  be  no 
doubt  that  Plato  was  also  a  sincere  believer  in  a  plurality  of 
gods,  of  which,  indeed,  any  one  may  assure  himself  by  reading 
the  tenth  book  of  "  the  Laws." 

And,  now  that  we  have  in  Plato  the  culmination  of  Grecian 
speculative  thought,  we  may  learn  from  him  the  mature  and 
final  judgment  of  the  ancients  in  regard  to  the  gods  of  pagan 
mythology.  We  open  the  Timceus,  and  here  we  find  his  views 
most  definitely  expressed.  After  giving  an  account  of  the 
"generation"  of  the  sun,  and  moon,  and  planets,  which  are  by 
him  designated  as  "  visible  gods,"  he  then  proceeds  "  to  speak 
concerning  the  other  divinities  :"  "We  must  on  this  subject  as- 
sent to  those  who  in  former  times  have  spoken  thereon ;  who 
were,  as  they  said,  the  offspring  of  the  gods,  and  who  doubtless 

were  well  acquainted  with  their  own  ancestors Let  then 

the  genealogy  of  the  gods  be,  and  be  acknowledged  to  be,  that 
which  they  deliver.  Of  Earth  and  Heaven  the  children  were 
Oceanus  and  Tethys ;  and  of  these  the  children  were  Phorcys, 
and  Kronos,  and  Rhea,  and  all  that  followed  these ;  and  from 
these  were  born  Zeus  and  Hera,  and  those  who  are  regarded  as 
brothers  and  sisters  of  these,  and  others  their  offspring. 

"When,  then,  all  the  gods  werehrought  into  existence^  both  those 
which  move  around  in  manifest  courses  [the  stars  and  planets], 
and  those  which  appear  when  it  pleases  them  [the  mythological 
deities],  the  Creator  of  the  Universe  thus  addressed  them  : 

^  See  chap.  xi. 

^  Some  writers  have  supposed  that  Plato  must  have  had  access  through 
some  medium  to  "  the  Oracles  of  God."     See  Butler,  vol.  ii.  p.  41. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


155 


^Gods,  and  sons  of  gods,  of  whom  I  am  the  father  and  the  au- 
thor, produced  by  me,  ye  are  indestructible  because  I  will.  .  .  . 
Now  inasmuch  as  you  have  been  generated^  you  are  hence  not  im- 
mortal, nor  wholly  indissoluble  ;  yet  you  shall  never  be  dissolved 
nor  become  subject  to  the  fatality  of  death,  because  so  I  have 
willed.  .  .  .  Learn,  therefore,  my  commands.  Three  races  of 
mortals  yet  remain  to  be  created.  Unless  these  be  created,  the 
universe  will  be  imperfect,  for  it  will  not  contain  within  it  every 
kind  of  animal.  ...  In  order  that  these  mortal  creatures  may 
be,  and  that  this  world  may  be  really  a  cosmos,  do  you  apply 
yourselves  to  the  creation  of  animals,  imitating  the  exercises  of 
my  power  in  creating  you.'  "^ 

Here,  then,  we  see  that  Plato  carefully  distinguishes  between 
the  sole  Eternal  Author  of  the  universe,  on  one  hand,  and  the 
"  souls,"  vital  and  intelligent,  which  he  attaches  to  the  heavenly 
orbs,  and  diffuses  through  all  nature,  on  the  other.  These  sub- 
ordinate powers  or  agents  are  all  created,  ''^generated  deities," 
who  owe  their  continued  existence  to  the  will  of  God ;  and 
though  intrusted  with  a  sort  of  deputed  creation,  and  a  subse- 
quent direction  and  government  of  created  things,  they  are  still 
only  the  servants  and  the  deputies  of  the  Supreme  Creator,  and 
Director,  and  Ruler  of  all  things.  These  subordinate  agents 
and  ministers  employed  in  the  creation  and  providential  gov- 
ernment of  the  world  appear,  in  the  estimation  of  Plato,  to  have 
been  needed — 

I.  To  satisfy  the  demands  of  the  popular  faith  ^  which  presented 
its  facts  to  be  explained  no  less  than  those  of  external  nature. 
Plato  had  evidently  a  great  veneration  for  antiquity,  a  peculiar 
regard  for  "tradition  venerable  through  ancient  report,"  and 
"doctrines  hoary  with  years."'^  He  aspired  after  supernatural 
light  and  guidance  ;  he  longed  for  some  intercourse  with,  some 
communication  from,  the  Deity.  And  whilst  he  found  many 
things  in  the  ancient  legends  which  revested  his  moral  sense, 
and  which  his  reason  rejected,  yet  the  sentiment  and  the  lesson 
which  pervades  the  whole  of  Grecian  mythology,  viz.,  that  the 
^  "  Timaeus,"  ch.  xv.  "^  Ibid,  ch.  v. 


156  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

gods  are  in  ceaseless  intercourse  with  the  human  race,  and  if 
men  will  do  right  the  gods  will  protect  and  help  them,"  was 
one  which  commended  itself  to  his  heart. 

2.  These  intermediate  agents  seem  to  have  been  demanded 
to  satisfy  the  disposition  and  tendency  which  has  revealed  itself  in 
all  systems,  of  ifiterposing  some  scale  of  ascent  between  the  ?naterial 
creation  and  the  infinite  Creator. 

The  mechanical  theory  of  the  universe  has  interposed  its 
long  series  of  secondary  causes — the  qualities,  properties,  laws, 
forces  of  nature ;  the  vital  theory  which  attaches  a  separate 
"  soul "  to  the  various  parts  of  nature  as  the  cause  and  intelli- 
gent director  of  its  movements.  Of  these  "  souls  "  or  gods, 
there  were  different  orders  and  degrees — deified  men  or  heroes, 
aerial,  terrestrial,  and  celestial  divinities,  ascending  from  na- 
ture up  to  God.  And  this  tendency  to  supply  some  scale  of 
ascent  towards  the  Deity,  or  at  least  to  people  the  vast  territory 
which  seems  to  swell  between  the  world  and  God,  finds  some 
countenance  in  "the  angels  and  archangels,"  "the  thrones,  and 
dominions,  and  principalities,  and  powers  "  of  the  Christian 
scriptures.^ 

3.  These  inferior  ministers  also  seemed  to  Plato  to  increase 
the  stately  grandeur  and  imperial  majesty  of  the  Divine  govern- 
ment. They  swell  the  retinue  of  the  Deity  in  his  grand  "  cir- 
cuit through  the  highest  arch  of  heaven."^  They  wait  to  exe- 
cute the  Divine  commands.  They  are  the  agents  of  Divine 
providence,  "  the  messengers  of  God  "  to  men. 

4.  And,  finally,  the  host  of  inferior  deities  interposed  be- 
tween the  material  sensible  world  and  God  seemed  to  Plato  as 
needful  in  order  to  explain  the  apparent  defects  and  disorders  of 
sublunary  affairs.  Plato  was  jealous  of  the  Divine  honor. 
"  All  good  must  be  ascribed  to  God,  and  nothing  t)ut  good. 
We  must  find  evil,  disorder,  sufiering,  in  some  other  cause.  "^ 
He  therefore  commits  to  the  junior  deities  the  task  of  creating 

^  "  The  gods  of  the  Platonic  system  answer,  in  office  and  conception,  to 
the  angels  of  Christian  Theology." — Butler,  vol.  i.  p.  225. 

"  "  Phasdrus,"  §  56,  7.  =>  "  Republic,"  bk.  ii.  p.  18. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


157 


animals,  and  of  forming  "  the  mortal  part  of  man,"  because  the 
mortal  part  is  "  possessed  of  certain  dire  and  necessary  pas- 
sions."^ 

Aristotle  seems  to  have  regarded  the  popular  polytheism  of 
Greece  as  a  perverted  relic  of  a  deeper  and  purer  "  Theology  " 
which  he  conceives  to  have  been,  in  all  probability,  perfected 
in  the  distant  past,  and  then  comparatively  lost.  He  says — 
"  The  tradition  has  come  down  from  very  ancient  times,  being 
left  in  a  mythical  garb  to  succeeding  generations,  that  these 
(the  heavenly  bodies)  are  gods,  and  that  the  Divinity  encom- 
passes the  whole  of  nature.  There  have  been  made,  however, 
to  these  certain  fabulous  additions  for  the  purpose  of  winning 
the  belief  of  the  multitude,  and  thus  securing  their  obedience 
to  the  laws,  and  their  co-operation  towards  advancing  the  gen- 
eral welfare  of  the  state.  These  additions  have  been  to  the 
effect  that  these  gods  were  of  the  same  form  as  men,  and  even 
that  some  of  them  were  in  appearance  similar  to  certain  others 
amongst  the  rest  of  the  animal  creation.  The  wise  course, 
however,  would  be  for  the  philosopher  to  disengage  from  these 
traditions  the  false  element,  and  to  embrace  that  which  is  true ; 
and  the  truth  lies  in  that  portion  of  this  ancient  doctrine  which 
regards  the  first  and  deepest  ground  of  all  existence  to  be  the 
Divine  J  and  this  he  may  regard  as  a  divine  utterance.  In  all 
probability,  every  art,  and  science,  and  philosophy  has  been 
over  and  over  again  discovered  to  the  farthest  extent  possible, 
and  then  again  lost ;  and  we  may  conceive  these  opinions  to 
have  been  preserved  to  us  as  a  sort  of  fragment  of  these  lost 
philosophers.  We  see,  then,  to  some  extent  the  relation  of  the 
popular  belief  to  these  ancient  opinions."^  This  conception  of 
a  deep  Divine  ground  of  all  existence  (for  the  immateriality  and 
unity  of  which  he  elsewhere  earnestly  contends)'  is  thus  regard- 
ed by  Aristotle  as  underlying  the  popular  polytheism  of  Greece. 

The  views  of  the  educated  and  philosophic  mind  of  Greece 
in  regard  to  the  mythological  deities  may,  in  conclusion,  be 
thus  briefly,  stated — 

'  "  Timseus,"  xliv.  =  '*  Metaph.,"  xi.  8.  "  Bk.  xi.  ch.  ii.  §  4. 


158  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

1.  They  are  all  created  beings — "generated  -d^iti^s,^' who  are 
dependent  on^  and  subject  to,  the  will  of  one  supreme  God. 

I  J.  They  are  the  agents  employed  by  God  in  the  creation  of,  at 
least  some  parts  of  the  universe,  and  in  the  movement  and  direction 
of  the  entire  cosmos ;  and  they  are  also  the  ministers  and  mes- 
sengers of  that  universal  providence  which  he  exercises  over  the 
huma?t  race. 

These  subordinate  deities  are,  i.  the  greater  parts  of  the 
visible  mundane  system  animated  by  intelligent  souls,  and  call- 
ed "  sensible  gods  " — the  sun,  the  moon,  the  stars,  and  even  the 
earth  itself,  and  known  by  the  names  Helios,  Selena,  Kronos, 
Hermes,  etc. 

2.  Some  are  invisible  powers,  having  peculiar  offices  and 
functions,  and  presiding  over  special  places,  provinces,  and  de- 
partments of  the  universe  ; — one  ruling  in  the  heavens  (Zeus), 
another  in  the  air  (Juno),  another  in  the  sea  (Neptune),  another 
in  the  subterranean  regions  (Pluto)  ;  one  god  presiding  over 
learning  and  wisdom  (Minerva),  another .  over  poetry,  music, 
and  religion  (Apollo),  another  over  justice  and  political  order 
(Themis),  another  over  war  (Mars),  another  over  corn  (Ceres), 
and  another  the  vine  (Bacchus). 

3.  Others,  again,  are  ethereal  and  aerial  beings,  who  have 
the  guardianship  of  individual  persons  and  things,  and  are  call- 
ed demons,  genii,  and  lares  ;  superior  indeed  to  men,  but  inferior 
to  the  gods  above  named. 

"Wherefore,  since  there  were  no  other  gods  among  the 
Pagans  besides  those  above  enumerated,  unless  their  images, 
statues,  and  symbols  should  be  accounted  such  (because  they 
were  also  sometimes  abusively  called  '  gods '),  which  could 
not  be  supposed  by  them  to  have  been  unmade  or  without  be- 
ginning, they  being  the  workmanship  of  their  own  hands,  we 
conclude,  universally,  that  all  that  multiplicity  of  Pagan  gods 
which  make  so  great  a  show  and  noise  was  really  either  noth- 
ing but  several  names  and  notions  of  one  supreme  Deity,  ac- 
cording to  his  different  manifestations,  gifts,  and  effects  upon 
the  world  personated,  or  else  many  inferior  understanding  be- 


OBEEE  PHILOSOPHY.  1 59 

ings,  generated  or  created  by  one  supreme :  so  that  one  un- 
made, self-existent  Deity,  and  no  more,  was  acknowledged  by 
the  more  inteUigent  Pagans,  and,  consequently,  the  Pagan  Pol- 
ytheism (or  idolatry)  consisted  not  in  worshipping  a  multiplici- 
ty of  unmade  minds,  deities,  and  creators,  self-existent  from 
eternity,  and  independent  upon  one  Supreme,  but  in  mingling 
and  blending  some  way  or  other,  unduly,  creature-worship  with 
the  worship  of  the  Creator."^ 

That  the  heathen  regard  the  one  Supreme  Being  as  the  first 
and  chief  object  of  worship  is  evident  from  the  apologies  which 
they  offered  for  worshipping,  besides  Him,  many  inferior  di- 
vinities. 

I.  They  claimed  to  worship  them  only  as  inferior  beings, 
and  that  therefore  they  were  not  guilty  of  giving  them  that 
honor  which  belonged  to  the  Supreme.  They  claimed  to  wor- 
ship the  supreme  God  incomparably  above  all.  2.  That  this 
honor  which  is  bestowed  upon  the  inferior  divinities  does  ulti- 
mately redound  to  the  supreme  God,  and  aggrandize  his  state 
and  majesty,  they  being  all  his  ministers  and  attendants.  3. 
That  as  demons  are  mediators  between  the  celestial  gods  and 
men,  so  those  celestial  gods  are  also  mediators  between  men 
and  the  supreme  God,  and,  as  it  were,  convenient  steps  by 
which  we  ought  with  reverence  to  approach  him.  4.  That 
demons  or  angels  being  appointed  to  preside  over  kingdoms, 
citieSj  and  persons,  and  being  many  ways  benefactors  to  us, 
thanks  ought  to  be  returned  to  them  by  sacrifice.  5.  Lastly, 
that  it  can  not  be  thought  that  the  Supreme  Being  will  envy 
those  inferior  beings  that  worship  or  honor  which  is  bestowed 
upon  them ;  nor  suspect  that  any  of  these  inferior  deities  will 
factiously  go  about  to  set  up  themselves  against  the  Supreme 
God. 

The  Pagans,  furthermore,  apologized  for  worshipping  God 

in  images,  statues,  and  symbols,  on  the  ground  that  these  were 

only  schetically  worshipped  by  them,  the  honor  passing  from 

them  to  the  prototype.     And  since  we  live  in  bodies,  and  can 

*  Cudworth,  "Intellectual  System,"  vol.  i.  p.  311. 


i6o  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

scarcely  conceive  of  any  thing  without  having  some  image  or 
phantasm,  we  may  therefore  be  indulged  in  this  infirmity  of 
human  nature  (at  least  in  the  vulgar)  to  worship  God  under  a 
corporeal  image,  as  a  means  of  preventing  men  from  falling  into 
Atheism. 

To  the  Christian  conscience  the  above  reasons  assigned 
furnish  no  real  justification  of  Polytheism  and  Idolatry;  but 
they  are  certainly  a  tacit  confession  of  their  belief  in  the  one 
Supreme  God,  and  their  conviction  that,  notwithstanding  their 
idolatry.  He  only  ought  to  be  worshipped.  The  heathen  poly- 
theists  are  therefore  justly  condemned  in  Scripture,  and  pro- 
nounced to  be  ^^  inexcusable.^''  They  had  the  knowledge  of  the 
true  God — "  they  knew  God"  and  yet  "  they  glorified  him  not 
as  God."  "They  changed  the  glory  of  the  incorruptible  God 
into  a  likeness  of  corruptible  man."  And,  finally,  they  ended 
in  "worshipping  and  serving  the  creature  more  than  the  Cre- 
ator."^ 

It  can  not,  then,  with  justice  be  denied  that  the  Athenians 
had  some  knowledge  of  the  true  God,  and  some  just  and  wor- 
thy conceptions  of  his  character.  It  is  equally  certain  that  a 
powerful  and  influential  religious  sentiment  pervaded  the  Athe- 
nian mind.  Their  extreme  "  carefulness  in  religion  "  must  be 
conceded  by  us,  and,  in  some  sense,  commended  by  us,  as  it 
was  by  Paul  in  his  address  on  Mars'  Hill,  At  the  same  time 
it  must  also  be  admitted  and  deplored  that  the  purer  theology 
of  primitive  times  was  corrupted  by  offensive  legends,  and  en- 
crusted by  polluting  myths,  though  not  utterly  defaced.'^  The 
Homeric  gods  were  for  the  most  part  idealized,  human  person- 
alities, with  all  the  passions  and  weaknesses  of  humanity. 
They  had  their  favorites  and  their  enemies ;  sometimes  they 
fought  in  one  camp,  sometimes  in  another.  They  were  suscep- 
tible of  hatred,  jealousy,  sensual  passion.  It  would  be  strange 
indeed  if  their  worshippers  were  not  like  unto  them.     The 

^  Romans  i.  21,  25. 

^  "  There  was  always  a  double  current  of  religious  ideas  in  Greece ;  one 
spiritualist,  the  other  tainted  with  impure  legends." — Pressense. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  >  l6i 

conduct  of  the  Homeric  heroes  was,  however,  better  than  their 
creed.  And  there  is  this  strange  incongruity  and  inconsistency 
in  the  conduct  of  the  Homeric  gods, — they  punish  mortals  for 
crimes  of  which  they  themselves  are  guilty,  and  reward  virtues 
in  men  which  they  do  not  themselves  always  practise.  "  They 
punish  with  especial  severity  social  and  political  crimes,  such 
as  perjury  (Iliad,  iii.  279),  oppression  of  the  poor  (Od.  xvii. 
475),  and  unjust  judgment  in  courts  of  justice  (Iliad,  xvi.  386)." 
Jupiter  is  the  god  of  justice,  and  of  the  domestic  hearth ;  he  is 
the  protector  of  the  exile,  the  avenger  of  the  poor,  and  the  vig- 
ilant guardian  of  hospitality.  "  And  with  all  the  imperfections 
of  society,  government,  and  religion,  the  poem  presents  a  re- 
markable picture  of  primitive  simplicity,  chastity,  justice,  and 
practical  piety,  under  the  threefold  influence  of  moral  feeling, 
mutual  respect,  and  fear  of  the  divine  displeasure ;  such,  at 
least,  are  the  motives  to  which  Telemachus  makes  his  appeal 
when  he  endeavors  to  rouse  the  assembled  people  of  Ithaca  to 
the  performance  of  their  duty  (Od.  ii.  64)."^ 

The  influence  of  the  religious  dramas  of  ^schylus  atid 
Sophocles  on  the  Athenian  mind  must  not  be  overlooked. 
No  writer  of  pagan  antiquity  made  the  voice  of  conscience 
speak  with  the  same  power  and  authority  that  ^schylus  did. 
"Crime,"  he  says,  "never  dies  without  posterity."  "Blood 
that  has  been  shed  congeals  on  the  ground,  crying  out  for  an 
avenger."  The  old  poet  made  himself  the  echo  of  what  he 
called  "  the  lyreless  hymn  of  the  Furies,"  who,  with  him,  repre- 
sented severe  Justice  striking  the  guilty  when  his  hour  comes, 
and  giving  warning  beforehand  by  the  terrors  which  haunt  him. 
His  dramas  are  characterized  by  deep  religious  feeling.  Rev- 
erence for  the  gods,  the  recognition  of  an  inflexible  moral 
order,  resignation  to  the  decisions  of  Heaven,  an  abiding  pre- 
sentiment of  a  future  state  of  reward  and  punishment,  are  strik- 
ingly predominant. 

Whilst  ^Eschylus  reveals  to  us  the  sombre,  terror-stricken 

^  Tyler,  "Theology  of  Greek  Poets,"  pp.  167,  168;  Pressense,  "Religion 
before  Christ,"  p.  yj. 

11 


1 62  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

side  of  conscience,  Sophocles  shows  us  the  divine  and  lumi- 
nous  side.  No  one  has  ever  spoken  with  nobler  eloquence  than 
he  of  moral  obligation  —  of  this  immortal,  inflexible  law,  in 
which  dwells  a  God  that  never  grows  old — 

"Oh  be  the  lot  forever  mine 
Unsullied  to  maintain, 
In  act  and  word,  with  awe  divine, 
What  potent  laws  ordain. 

"  Laws  spring  from  purer  realms  above : 
Their  father  is  the  Olympian  Jove.    ~ 
Ne'er  shall  oblivion  veil  their  front  sublime, 
Th'  indwelling  god  is  great,  nor  fears  the  wastes  of  time."^ 

The  religious  inspiration  that  animates  Sophocles  breaks 
out  with  incomparable  beauty  in  the  last  words  of  CEdipus, 
when  the  old  banished  king  sees  through  the  darkness  of  death 
a  mysterious  light  dawn,  which  illumines  his  blind  eyes,  and 
which  brings  to  him  the  assurance  of  a  blessed  immortality.^ 

Such  a  theology  could  not  have  been  utterly  powerless.  The 
influence  of  truth,  in  every  measure  and  degree,  must  be  salu- 
tary, and  especially  of  truth  in  relation  to  God,  to  duty,  and  to 
immortality.  The  religion  of  the  Athenians  must  have  had 
some  wholesome  and  conserving  influence  of  the  social  and 
political  life  of  Athens.'     Those  who  resign  the  government  of 

*  "  CEdipus  Tyran.,"  pp.  863-872. 

"  Pressense,  "  Religion  before  Christ,"  pp.  85-87. 

'  The  practice,  so  common  with  some  theological  writers,  of  drawing  dark 
pictures  of  heathenism,  in  which  not  one  luminous  spot  is  visible,  in  order 
to  exalt  the  revelations  given  to  the  Jews,  is  exceedingly  unfortunate,  and 
highly  reprehensible.  It  is  unfortunate,  because  the  skeptical  scholar  knows 
that  there  were  some  elements  of  truth  and  excellence,  and  even  of  grandeur, 
in  the  religion  and  civilization  of  the  republics  of  Greece  and  Rome ;  and 
it  is  reprehensible,  because  it  is  a  one-sided  and  unjust  procedure,  in  so  far 
as"  it  withholds  part  of  the  truth.  This  species  of  argument  is  a  two-edged 
sword  which  cuts  both  ways.  The  prevalence  of  murder,  and  slavery,  and 
treachery,  and  polygamy,  in  Greece  and  Rome,  is  no  more  a  proof  that  "the 
religions  of  the  pagan  nations  were  destructive  of  morality"  (Watson,  vol. 
i-  P-  59)>  than  the  polygamy  of  the  Hebrews,  the  falsehoods  and  impositions 
of  Mediaeval  Christianity,  the  persecutions  and  martyrdoms  of  Catholic 
Christianity,  the  oppressions  and  wrongs  of  Christian  England,  and  the  slav- 
ery of  Protestant  America,  are  proofs  that  the  Christian  religion  is  "  de- 
structive of  morality."     What  a  fearful  picture  of  the  history  of  Christian 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  1 63 

this  lower  world  almost  exclusively  to  Satan,  may  see,  in  the  re- 
ligion of  the  Greeks,  a  simple  creation  of  Satanic  powers.  But 
he  who  believes  that  the  entire  progress  of  humanity  has  been 
under  the  control  and  direction  of  a  benignant  Providence, 
must  suppose  that,  in  the  purposes  of  God,  even  Ethnicism  has 
fulfilled  some  end,  or  it  would  not  have  been  permitted  to  live. 
God  has  "  neuer  left  himself  without  a  witness  "  in  any  nation 
under  heaven.  And  some  preparatory  office  has  been  fulfilled 
by  Heathenism  which,  at  least,  revealed  the  want^  and  prepared 
the  mind  for,  the  advent  of  Christianity. 

The  religion  of  the  Athenians  was  unable  to  deliver  them 
from  the  guilt  of  sin,  redeem  them  from  its  power,  and  make 
them  pure  and  holy.  It  gave  the  Athenian  no  victory  over 
himself,  and,  practically,  brought  him  no  nearer  to  the  living 
God.  But  it  awakened  and  educated  the  conscience,  it  devel- 
oped more  fully  the  sense  of  sin  and  guilt,  and  it  made  man 
conscious  of  his  inability  to  save  himself  from  sin  and  guilt ; 
and  "  the  day  that  humanity  awakens  to  the  want  of  something 
more  than  mere  embellishment  and  culture,  that  day  it  feels  the 
need  of  being  saved  and  restored  from  the  consequences  of 
sin  "  by  a  higher  power.  Esthetic  taste  had  found  its  fullest 
gratification  in  Athens ;  poetry,  sculpture,  architecture,  had 
been  carried  to  the  highest  perfection  ;  a  noble  civilization  had 
been  reached ;  but  "  the  need  of  something  deeper  and  truer 
was  written  on  the  very  stones."  The  highest  consummation  of 
Paganism  was  an  altar  to  "  the  unknown  God,"  the  knowledge 
of  whom  it  needed,  as  the  source  of  purity  and  peace. 

The  strength  and  the  weakness  of  Grecian  mythology  con- 
nations  might  be  drawn  to-day,  if  all  the  lines  of  light,  and  goodness,  and 
charity  were  left  out,  and  the  crimes,  and  wrongs,  and  cruelties  of  the  Chris- 
tian nations  were  alone  exhibited  ! 

How  much  more  convincing  a  proof  of  the  truth  of  Christianity  to  find  in 
the  religions  of  the  ancient  world  a  latent  sympathy  with,  and  an  uncon» 
scious  preparation  for,  the  religion  of  Christ.  "  The  history  of  religions  of 
human  origin  is  the  most  striking  evidence  of  the  agreement  of  revealed  re- 
ligion with  the  soul  of  man — for  each  of  these  forms  of  worship  is  the  ex- 
pression of  the  wants  of  conscience,  its  eternal  thirst  for  pardon  and  restora- 
tion— rather  let  us  say,  its  thirst  for  God." — Pressense,  p.  6. 


164  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

sisted  in  the  contradictory  character  of  its  divinities.  There  is 
a  strange  blending  of  the  natural  and  the  supernatural,  the  hu- 
man and  the  divine.  Zeus,  the  eternal  Father, — the  immortal 
King,  whose  will  is  sovereign,  and  whose  power  is  invincible, — 
the  All-seeing  Jove,  has  some  of  the  weaknesses  and  passions 
of  humanity.  God  and  man  are  thus,  in  some  mysterious  way, 
united.  And  here  that  deepest  longing  of  the  human  heart  is 
met — the  unconquerable  desire  to  bring  God  nearer  to  the  hu- 
man apprehension,  and  closer  to  the  human  heart.  Hence  the 
hold  which  Polytheism  had  upon  the  Grecian  mind.  But  in  this 
human  aspect  was  also  found  its  weakness,  for  when  philo- 
sophic thought  is  brought  into  contact  with,  and  permitted  crit- 
ically to  test  mythology,  it  dethrones  the  false  gods.  The  age 
of  spontaneous  religious  sentiment  must  necessarily  be  suc- 
ceeded by  the  age  of  reflective  thought.  Popular  theological 
faiths  must  be  placed  in  the  hot  crucible  of  dialectic  analysis, 
that  the  false  and  the  frivolous  may  be  separated  from  the  pure 
and  the  true.  The  reason  of  man  demands  to  be  satisfied,  as 
well  as  the  heart.  Faith  in  God  must  have  a  logical  basis,  it 
must  be  grounded  on  demonstration  and  proof.  Or,  at  any 
rate,  the  question  must  be  answered,  whether  God  is  cognizable 
by  hu?nan  reason?  If  this  can  be  achieved,  then  a  deeper 
foundation  is  laid  in  the  mind  of  humanity,  upon  which  Chris- 
tianity can  rear  its  higher  and  nobler  truths. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  165 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE   UNKNOWN    GOD. 

"  As  I  passed  by,  and  beheld  your  sacred  objects,  I  found  an  altar  with 
this  inscription,  To  the  Unknown  God^ — St.  Paul. 

"  That  which  can  be  known  of  God  is  manifested  in  their  hearts,  God 
himself  having  shown  it  to  them  "  [the  heathen  nations]. — St.  Paul. 

HAVING  now  reached  our  first  landing-place,  fi-om  whence 
we  may  survey  the  fields  that  we  have  traversed,  it  may 
be  well  to  set  down  in  definite  propositions  the  results  we  have 
attained.  We  may  then  carry  them  forward,  as  torches,  to  il- 
luminate the  path  of  future  and  still  profounder  inquiries. 

The  principles  we  have  assumed  as  the  only  adequate  and 
legitimate  interpretation  of  the  facts  of  religious  histor}^,  and 
which  an  extended  study  of  the  most  fully-developed  religious 
system  of  the  ancient  world  confirms,  may  be  thus  announced  : 

I.  A  religious  nature  and  destination  appertain  to  man,  so 
that  the  purposes  of  his  existence  and  the  perfection  of  his 
being  can  only  be  secured  in  and  through  religion. 

II.  The  idea  of  God  as  the  unconditioned  Cause,  the  infi- 
nite Mind,  the  personal  Lord  and  Lawgiver,  and  the  conscious- 
ness of  dependence  upon  and  obligation  to  God,  are  the  funda- 
mental principles  of  all  religion. 

III.  Inasmuch  as  man  is  a  religious  being,  the  instincts  and 
emotions  of  his  nature  constraining  him  to  worship,  there  must 
also  be  implanted  in  his  rational  nature  some  original  d  priori 
ideas  or  laws  of  thought  which  furnish  the  necessary  cognition 
of  the  object  of  worship  ;  that  is,  some  native,  spontaneous 
cognition  of  God. 

A  mere  blind  impulse  would  not  be  adequate  to  guide  man 
to  the  true  end  and  perfection  of  his  being  without  rational 
ideas  ;    a  tendency  or  appetency,  without  a  revealed  object, 


1 66  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

would  be  the  mockery  and  misery  of  his  nature — an  "ignis 
fatuus  "  perpetually  alluring  and  forever  deceiving  man. 

That  man  has  a  native,  spontaneous  apperception  of  a  God, 
in  the  true  import  of  that  sacred  name,  has  been  denied  by 
men  of  totally  opposite  schools  and  tendencies  of  thought — by 
the  Idealist  and  the  Materialist ;  by  the  Theologian  and  the 
Atheist.  Though  differing  essentially  in  their  general  princi- 
ples and  method,  they  are  agreed  in  asserting  that  God  is  ab- 
solutely "  the  unknown ;"  and  that,  so  far  as  reason  and  logic 
are  concerned,  man  can  not  attain  to  any  knowledge  of  the  first 
principles  and  causes  of  the  universe,  and,  consequently,  can 
not  determine  whether  the  first  principle  or  principles  be  in- 
telligent or  unintelligent,  personal  or  impersonal,  finite  or  in- 
finite, one  or  many,  righteous  or  non-righteous,  evil  or  good. 

The  various  opponents  of  the  doctrine  that  God  can  be 
cognized  by  human  reason  may  be  classified  as  follows  : 

I.  Those  who  assert  that  all  hu7nan  knowledge  is  necessarily 
confined  to  the  observation  and  classification  of  phenome?ia  in  their 
orders  of  co-existence^  succession^  and  resemblance.  Man  has  no 
faculty  for  cognizing  substances,  causes,  forces,  reasons,  first 
principles — no  power  by  which  he  can  know  God.  This  class 
may  be  again  subdivided  into — 

1.  Those  who  limit  all  knowledge  to  the  observation  and 
classification  of  mental  phenomena  {e.  g.,  Idealists  like  J.  S. 
Mill). 

2.  Those  who  limit  all  knowledge  to  the  observation  and 
classification  of  material  phenomena  {e.  g.,  Materialists  like 
Comte). 

II.  T7ze  second  class  comprises  all  who  admit  that  philosophic 
hiowledge  is  the  knowledge  of  effects  as  depefident  on  causes,  and  of 
qualities  as  inherent  in  substances;  but  at  the  same  time  assert  that 
''^  all  knowledge  is  of  the  phenomenal ^  Philosophy  can  never 
attain  to  a  positive  knowledge  of  the  First  Cause.  Of  exist- 
ence, absolutely  and  in  itself,  we  know  nothing.     The  infinite 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  167 

can  not  by  us  be  comprehended,  conceived,  or  thought.  Faith 
is  the  organ  by  which  we  apprehend  what  is  beyond  knowledge. 
We  beheve  in  the  existence  of  God,  but  we  can  not  know  God. 
This  class,  also,  may  be  again  subdivided  into — 

1.  Those  who  affirm  that  our  idea  of  the  Infinite  First 
Cause  is  grounded  on  an  intuitional  or  subjective  faith,  ne- 
cessitated by  an  "impotence  of  thought"  —  that  is,  by  a 
mental  inability  to  conceive  an  absolute  limitation  or  an 
infinite  illimitation,  an  absolute  commencement  or  an  infi- 
nite non-commencement.  Both  contradictory  opposites  are 
equally  incomprehensible  and  inconceivable  to  us ;  and  yet, 
though  unable  to  view  either  as  possible,  we  are  forced  by  a 
higher  law — the  "  Law  of  Excluded  Middle  " — to  admit  that 
one,  and  only  one,  is  necessary  {e.  g.^  Hamilton  and  Mansel). 

2.  Those  who  assert  that  our  idea  of  God  rests  solely  on 
an  historical  or  objective  faith  in  testimony — the  testimony 
of  Scripture,  which  assures  us  that,  in  the  course  of  history, 
God  has  manifested  his  existence  in  an  objective  manner  to 
the  senses,  and  given  verbal  communications  of  his  character 
and  will  to  men ;  human  reason  being  utterly  incapacitated 
by  the  fall,  and  the  consequent  depravity  of  man,  to  attain 
any  knowledge  of  the  unity,  spirituality,  and  righteousness 
of  God  {e.g.^  Watson,  and  Dogmatic  Theologians  generally). 

It  will  thus  be  manifest  that  the  great  question,  the  central 
and  vital  question  which  demands  a  thorough  and  searching 
consideration,  is  the  following,  to  wit :  Is  God  cognizable  by  hu- 
man reason^  Can  man  attain  to  a  positive  cognition  of  God — 
can  he  know  God  ;  or  is  all  our  supposed  knowledge  "  a  learned 
ignorance,"^  an  unreasoning  faith?  We  venture  to  answer  this 
question  in  the  affirmative.  Human  reason  is  now  adequate 
to  the  cognition  of  God ;  it  is  able,  with  the  fullest  confidence, 
to  affirm  the  being  of  a  God,  and,  in  some  degree,  to  determine 
his  character.  The  parties  and  schools  above  referred  to  an- 
swer this  question  in  the  negative  form.'  Whether  Theologians 
^  Hamilton's  "  Philosophy,"  p.  512. 


1 68  CHBISTIANITT  AND 

or  Atheists,  they  are  singularly  agreed  in  denying  to  human 
reason  all  possibility  of  knowing  God. 

Before  entering  upon  the  discussion  of  the  negative  positions 
enumerated  in  the  above  classification,  it  may  be  important  we 
should  state  our  own  position  explicitly,  and  exhibit  what  we 
regard  as  the  true  doctrine  of  the  genesis  of  the  idea  of  God  in 
the  human  intelligence.  The  real  question  at  issue  will  then 
stand  out  in  clear  relief,  and  precision  will  be  given  to  the  en- 
tire discussion. 

(i.)  We  hold  that  the  idea  of  God  is  a  common  phenomenon  of 
the  universal  human  intelligence.  It  is  found  in  all  minds  where 
reason  has  had  its  normal  and  healthy  development;  and  no 
race  of  men  has  ever  been  found  utterly  destitute  of  the  idea 
of  God.  The  proof  of  this  position  has  already  been  furnished 
in  chap,  ii.,^  and  needs  not  be  re-stated  here.  We  have  simply 
to  remark  that  the  appeal  which  is  made  by  Locke  and  others 
of  the  sensational  school  to  the  experiences  of  infants,  idiots, 
the  deaf  and  dumb,  or,  indeed,  any  cases  wherein  the  proper 
conditions  for  the  normal  development  of  reason  are  wanting, 
are  utterly  irrelevant  to  the  question.  The  acorn  contains 
within  itself  the  rudimental  germ  of  the  future  oak,  but  its  ma- 
ture and  perfect  development  depends  on  the  exterior  condi- 
tions of  moisture,  light,  and  heat.  By  these  exterior  conditions 
it  may  be  rendered  luxuriant  in  its  growth,  or  it  may  be  stunted 
in  its  growth.  It  may  barely  exist  under  one  class  of  condi- 
tions ;  it  may  be  distorted  and  perverted,  or  it  may  perish  ut- 
terly under  another.  And  so  in  the  idiotic  mind  the  ideas  of 
reason  may  be  wanting,  or  they  may  be  imprisoned  by  impervi- 
ous walls  of  cerebral  malformation.  In  the  infant  mind  the  de- 
velopment of  reason  is  yet  in  an  incipient  stage.  The  idea  of 
God  is  immanent  to  the  infant  thought,  but  the  infant  thought 
is  not  yet  matured.  The  deaf  and  dumb  are  certainly  not  in 
that  full  and  normal  correlation  to  the  world  of  sense  which  is  a 
necessary  condition  of  the  development  of  reason.  Language, 
the  great  vehiculum  and  instrument  of  thought,  is  wanting,  and 

^  Pp.  89, 90. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


169 


reason  can  not'  develop  itself  without  words.  "Words  with- 
out thought  are  dead  sounds,  thoughts  without  words  are  noth- 
ing. The  word  is  the  thought  incarnate/'^  Under  proper  and 
normal  conditions,  the  idea  of  God  is  the  natural  and  necessary 
form  in  which  human  thought  must  be  developed.  And,  with 
these  explanations,  we  repeat  our  affirmation  that  the  idea  of 
God  is  a  common  phenomenon  of  the  universal  human  intelli- 
gence. 

(ii.)  We  do  not  hold  that  the  idea  of  God.,  in  its  completeness^  is  a 
simple y  direct y  and  immediate  intuition  of  the  reason  alone,  independ- 
ent of  all  experience,  a?td  all  knowledge  of  the  external  world.  The 
idea  of  God  is  a  complex  idea,  and  not  a  simple  idea.  The  af- 
firmation, "  God  exists,"  is  a  synthetic  and  primitive  judgment 
spontaneously  developed  in  the  mind,  and  developed,  too,  inde- 
pendent of  all  reflective  reasoning.  It  is  a  necessary  deduction 
from  the  facts  of  the  outer  world  of  nature  and  the  primary  in- 
tuitions of  the  inner  world  of  reason — a  logical  deduction  from 
the  self  evident  truths  given  in  sense,  consciousness,  and  reason. 
"  We  do  not  perceive  God,  but  we  conceive  Him  upon  the  faith 
of  this  admirable  world  exposed  to  view,  and  upon  the  other 
world,  more  admirable  still,  which  we  bear  in  ourselves."* 
Therefore  we  do  not  say  that  man  is  born  with  an  "  innate 
idea"  of  God,  nor  with  the  definite  proposition,  "there  is  a 
God,"  written  upon  his  soul ;  but  we  do  say  that  the  mind  is 
pregnant  with  certain  natural  principles,  and  governed,  in  its 
development,  by  certain  necessary  laws  of  thought,  which  de- 
termine it,  by  a  spontaneous  logic,  to  affirm  the  being  of  a  God  ; 
and,  furthermore,  that  this  judgment  may  be  called  innate  in 
the  sense,  that  it  is  the  primitive,  universal,  and  necessary  de- 
velopment of  the  human  understanding  which  "  is  innate  to  it- 
self and  equal  to  itself  in  all  men."^ 

As  the  vital  and  rudimentary  germ  of  the  oak  is  contained 
in  the  acorn ;  as  it  is  quickened  and  excited  to  activity  by  the 
external  conditions  of  moisture,  light,  and  heat,  and  is  fully  de- 

'  Muller,  "  Science  of  Language,"  p.  384. 

"^  Cousin,  *'  True,  Beautiful,  and  Good,"  p.  102.  ^  Leibnitz. 


lyo  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

veloped  under  the  fixed  and  determinative  laws  of  vegetable 
life — so  the  germs  of  the  idea  of  God  are  present  in  the  human 
mind  as  the  intuitions  of  pure  reason  {Rational  Psychology) ; 
these  intuitions  are  excited  to  energy  by  our  experiential  and 
historical  knowledge  of  the  facts  and  laws  of  the  universe  {Fhe- 
nojnejtology) ;  and  these  facts  and  intuitions  are  developed  into 
form  by  the  necessary  laws  of  the  intellect  (JVomology,  or  Pri- 
mordial Logic). 

The  logical  demonstration  of  the  being  of  God  commences 
with  the  analysis  of  thought.  It  asks,  What  are  the  ideas  which 
exist  in  the  human  intelligence  ?  What  are  their  actual  charac- 
teristics, and  what  their  primitive  characteristics  ?  What  is 
their  origin,  and  what  their  validity  ?  Having,  by  this  process, 
found  that  some  of  our  ideas  are  subjective,  and  some  objec- 
tive j  that  some  are  derived  from  experience,  and  that  some  can 
not  be  derived  from  experience,  but  are  inherent  in  the  very  con- 
stitution of  the  mind  itself,  as  d  priori  ideas  of  reason ;  that 
these  are  characterized  as  self-evident,  universal,  and  neces- 
sary ;  and  that,  as  laws  of  thought,  they  govern  the  mind  in  all 
its  conceptions  of  the  universe ;  it  has  formulated  these  neces- 
sary judgments,  and  presented  them  as  distinct  and  articulate 
propositions.  These  d  priori,  necessary  judgments  constitute 
the  major  premise  of  the  Theistic  syllogism,  and,  in  view  of  the 
facts  of  the  universe,  necessitate  the  affirmation  of  the  existence 
of  a  God  as  the  only  valid  explanation  of  the  facts. 

The  natural  or  chronological  order  in  which  the  idea  of  God 
is  developed  in  the  human  intelligence,  is  the  reverse  process 
of  the  scientific  or  logical  order,  in  which  the  demonstration 
of  the  being  of  God  is  presented  by  philosophy ;  the  latter  is 
reflective  and  analytic,  the  former  is  spontaneous  and  synthetic. 
The  natural  order  commences  with  the  knowledge  of  the  facts 
of  the  universe,  material  and  mental,  as  revealed  by  sensation 
and  experience.  In  presence  of  these  facts  of  the  universe, 
the  (I  priori  ideas  of  power,  cause,  reason,  and  end  are  evoked 
into  consciousness  with  greater  or  less  distinctness ;  and  the 
judgment,  by  a  natural  and  spontaneous  logic,  free  from  all 


GREEK  PHILOSOFHY. 


171 


reflection,  and  consequently  from  all  possibility  of  error,  affirms 
a  necessary  relation  between  the  facts  of  experience  and  the 
d  priori  ideas  of  the  reason.  The  result  of  this  involuntary 
and  almost  unconscious  process  of  thought  is  that  natural  cog- 
nition of  a  God  found,  with  greater  or  less  clearness  and  defi- 
niteness,  in  all  rational  minds.  The  d  posteriori^  or  empirical, 
knowledge  of  the  phenomena  of  the  universe,  in  their  relations 
to  time  and  space,  constitute  the  minor  premise  of  the  Theistic 
syllogism. 

The  Theistic  argument  is,  therefore,  necessarily  composed 
of  both  experiential  and  d  priori  elements.  An  d  posteriori 
element  exists  as  a  condition  of  the  logical  demonstration. 
The  rational  d  priori  element  is,  however,  the  logical  basis,  the 
only  valid  foundation  of  the  Theistic  demonstration.  The  facts 
of  the  universe  alone  would  never  lead  man  to  the  recognition 
of  a  God,  if  the  reason,  in  presence  of  these  facts,  did  not 
enounce  certain  necessary  and  universal  principles  which  are 
the  logical  antecedents,  and  adequate  explanation  of  the  facts. 
Of  what  use  would  it  be  to  point  to  the  events  and  changes  of 
the  material  universe  as  proofs  of  the  existence  of  a  First  Cause, 
unless  we  take  account  of  the  universal  and  necessary  truth 
that  "every  change  must  have  an  efficient  causey"  that  all 
phenomena  are  an  indication  oi power ;  and  that  "there  is  an 
ultimate  and  sufficient  reason  why  all  things  exist,  and  are  as 
they  are,  and  not  otherwise."  There  would  be  no  logical  force 
in  enumerating  the  facts  of  order  and  special  adaptation  which 
literally  crowd  the  universe,  as  proofs  of  the  existence  of  an 
InteUige7it  Creator,  if  the  mind  did  not  affirm  the  necessary  prin- 
ciple that  "  facts  of  order,  having  a  commencement  in  time, 
suppose  mind  as  their  source  and  exponent."  There  is  no 
logical  conclusiveness  in  the  assertion  of  Paley,  "that  experi- 
ence teaches  us  that  a  designer  must  be  a  person  ;"  because,  as 
Hume  justly  remarks,  our  "  experience  "  is  narrowed  down  to 
a  mere  point,  "  and  can  not  be  a  rule  for  a  universe ;"  but 
there  is  an  infinitude  of  force  in  that  dictum  of  reason,  that 
"  intelligence,  self-consciousness,  and  self-determination  neces- 


172  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

sarily  constitute  personality."  A  multiplicity  of  different  effects, 
of  which  experience  does  not  always  reveal  the  connection, 
would  not  conduct  to  a  single  cause  and  to  one  God,  but  rather 
to  a  plurality  of  causes  and  a  plurality  of  gods,  did  not  reason 
teach  us  that  "all  plurality  implies  an  ultimate  indivisible 
unity,"  and  therefore  there  must  be  a  First  Cause  of  all  causes, 
a  First  Principle  of  all  principles,  the  Substance  of  all  substances, 
the  Being  of  all  beings  —  a  God  "  of  whom,  in  whom,  and  to 
whom  are  all  things  "  {tiavra  ek  rov  deov,  h  rw  06W,  elg  rov  deov). 

The  conclusion,  therefore,  is,  that,  as  the  idea  of  God  is  a 
complex  idea,  so  there  are  necessarily  a  number  of  simple  d 
priori  principles,  and -a  variety  of  experiential  facts  conspiring 
to  its  development  in  the  human  intelligence. 

(iii.)  The  universe  presents  to  the  human  mind  an  aggregation 
and  history  of  pheno77iena  which  demands  the  idea  of  a  God — a 
self  existent  J  i7itelligent,  personal^  righteous  First  Cause — as  its  ade- 
quate explanation. 

The  attempt  of  Positivism  to  confine  all  human  knowledge 
to  the  observation  and  classification  of  phenomena,  and  arrest 
and  foreclose  all  inquiry  as  to  causes,  efficient,  final,  and  ulti- 
mate, is  simply  futile  and  absurd.  It  were  just  as  easy  to  arrest 
the  course  of  the  sun  in  mid-heaven  as  to  prevent  the  human 
mind  from  seeking  to  pass  beyond  phenomena,  and  ascertain 
the  ground,  and  reason,  and  cause  of  all  phenomena.  The  his- 
tory of  speculative  thought  clearly  attests  that,  in  all  ages,  the 
inquiry  after  the  Ultimate  Cause  and  Reason  of  all  existence — 
the  ctpx'/)  or  First  Principle  of  all  things — has  been  the  inevita- 
ble and  necessary  tendency  of  the  human  mind ;  to  resist  which, 
skepticism  and  positivism  have  been  utterly  impotent.  The 
first  philosophers,  of  the  Ionian  school,  had  just  as  strong  a 
faith  in  the  existence  of  a  Supreme  Reality — an  Ultimate  Cause 
— as  Leibnitz  and  Cousin.  But  when,  by  reflective  thought, 
they  attempted  to  render  an  account  to  themselves  of  this  in- 
stinctive faith,  they  imagined  that  its  object  must  be  in  some 
way  appreciable  to  sense,  and  they  sought  it  in  some  physical 
element,  or  under  some  visible  and  tangible  shrine.     Still,  how- 


GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 


173 


ever  imperfect  and  inadequate  the  method,  and  however  unsat- 
isfactory the  results,  humanity  has  never  lost  its  positive  and 
ineradicable  confidence  that  the  problem  of  existence  could  be 
solved.  The  resistless  tide  of  spontaneous  and  necessary 
thought  has  always  borne  the  race  onward  towards  the  recog- 
nition of  a  great  First  Cause  ;  and  though  philosophy  may  have 
erred,  again  and  again,  in  tracing  the  logical  order  of  this  inev- 
itable thought,  and  exhibiting  the  necessary  nexus  between  the 
premises  and  conclusion,  yet  the  human  mind  has  never  wa- 
vered in  the  confidence  which  it  has  reposed  in  the  natural 
logic  of  thought,  and  man  has  never  ceased  to  believe  in  a  God. 

We  readily  grant  that  all  our  empirical  knowledge  is  con- 
fined to  phenomena  in  their  orders  of  co-existence,  succession, 
and  resemblance.  "  To  our  objective  perception  and  compar- 
ison nothing  is  given  but  qualities  and  changes ;  to  our  induc- 
tive generalization  nothing  but  the  shifting  and  grouping  of 
these  in  time  -and  space."  Were  it,  however,  our  immediate 
concern  to  discuss  the  question,  we  could  easily  show  that  sen- 
sationalism has  never  succeeded  in  tracing  the  genetic  origin 
of  our  ideas  of  space  and  time  to  observation  and  experience  j 
and,  without  the  d  priori  idea  of  space^  as  the  place  of  bodies, 
and  of  time,  as  the  condition  of  succession,  we  can  not  conceive 
of  phenomena  at  all.  If,  therefore,  we  know  any  thing  beyond 
phenomena  and  their  mutual  relations ;  if  we  have  any  cog- 
nition of  realities  underlying  phenomena,  and  of  the  relations 
of  phenomena  to  their  objective  ground,  it  must  be  given  by 
some  faculty  distinct  from  sense-perception,  and  in  some  proc- 
ess distinct  from  inductive  generalization.  The  knowledge  of 
real  Being  and  real  Power,  of  an  ultimate  Reason  and  a  per- 
sonal Will,  is  derived  from  the  apperception  of  pure  reason, 
which  afhrms  the  necessary  existence  of  a  Supreme  Reality — 
an  Uncreated  Being  beyond  all  phenomena,  which  is  the  ground 
and  reason  of  the  existence — the  contemporaneousness  and 
succession — the  likeness  and  unlikeness,  of  all  phenomena. 

The  immediate  presentation  of  phenomena  to  sensation  is 
the  occasion  of  the  development  in  consciousness  of  these  d, 


174  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

priori  ideas  of  reason  :  the  possession  of  these  ideas,  or  the  im- 
manence of  these  ideas,  in  the  human  intellect,  constitutes  the 
original  power  to  know  external  phenomena.  The  ideas  of 
space,  time,  power,  law,  reason,  and  end,  are  the  logical  antece- 
dents of  the  ideas  of  body,  succession,  event,  consecution,  order, 
and  adaptation.  The  latter  can  not  be  conceived  as  distinct 
notions  without  the  former.  The  former  will  not  be  revealed 
in  thought  without  the  presentation  to  sense,  of  resistance, 
movement,  change,  uniformity,  etc.  All  actual  knowledge  must, 
therefore,  be  impure ;  that  is,  it  must  involve  both  d  priori  and 
d  posteriori  elements  ;  and  between  these  elements  there  must 
be  a  necessary  relation. 

This  necessary  relation  between  the  d  priori  and  d  posteriori 
elements  of  knowledge  is  not  a  mere  subjective  law  of  thought. 
It  is  both  a  law  of  thought  and  a  law  of  things.  Between  the 
d  posteriori  facts  of  the  universe  and  the  d  priori  ideas  of  the 
reason  there  is  an  absolute  nexus,  a  universal  and  necessary 
correlation ;  so  that  the  cognition  of  the  latter  is  possible  only 
on  the  cognition  of  the  former;  and  the  objective  existence  of 
the  realities,  represented  by  the  ideas  of  reason,  is  the  condi- 
tion, sifie  qua  non,  of  the  existence  of  the  phenomena  presented 
to  sense.  If,  in  one  indivisible  act  of  consciousness,  we  im- 
mediately perceive  extended  matter  exterior  to  our  percipient 
mind,  then  Extension  exists  objectively ;  and  if  Extension  exists 
objectively,  then  Space,  its  conditio  sine  qua  7to7i,  also  exists  ob- 
jectively. And  if  a  definite  body  reveals  to  us  the  Space  in 
which  it  is  contained,  if  a  succession  of  pulsations  or  move- 
ments exhibit  the  uniform  Time  beneath,  so  do  the  changeful 
phenomena  of  the  universe  demand  a  living  Power  behind, 
and  the  existing  order  and  regular  evolution  of  the  universe 
presuppose  Thought — prevision,  and  predetermination,  by  an 
intelligent  mind. 

If,  then,  the  universe  is  a  created  effect,  it  must  furnish  some 
indications  of  the  character  of  its  cause.  If,  as  Plato  taught, 
the  world  is  a  "  created  image  "  of  the  eternal  archetypes  which 
dwell  in  the  uncreated  Mind,  and  if  the  subjective  ideas  which 


or  THE 

fir  J  vr  T 1 

OBEEK  PHILOSOPET. 

dwell  in  the  human  reason,  as  the  offspring  of  Go^giJ^^'jC^^ 
ies"  of  the  ideas  of  the  Infinite  Reason  —  if  the  universe  be 
"the  autobiography  of  the  Infinite  Spirit  which  has  also  repeat- 
ed itself  in  miniature  within  our  finite  spirit,"  then  may  we  deci-  ■ 
^  pher  its  symbols,  and  read  its  lessons  straight  ofi".  Then  every 
approach  towards  a  scientific  comprehension  and  generaliza- 
tion of  the  facts  of  the  universe  must  carry  us  upward  towards 
the  higher  realities  of  reason.  The  more  we  can  understand 
of  Nature — of  her  comprehensive  laws,  of  her  archetypal  forms, 
of  her  far-reaching  plan  spread  through  the  almost  infinite  ages, 
and  stretching  through  illimitable  space — the  more  do  we  com- 
prehend the  divine  Thought.  The  inductive  generalization  of 
science  gradually  ascends  towards  the  universal ;  the  pure,  essen- 
tial, d  priori  reason,  with  its  universal  and  necessary  ideas,  de- 
scends from  above  to  meet  it.  The  general  conceptions  of  sci- 
ence are  thus  a  kind  of  idecs  umbratiles — shadowy  assimilations 
to  those  immutable  ideas  which  dwell  in  essential  reason,  as 
possessed  by  the  Supreme  Intelligence,  and  which  are  partici- 
pated in  by  rational  man  as  the  offspring  and  image  of  God. 

Without  making  any  pretension  to  profound  scientific  accu- 
racy, we  offer  the  following  tentative  classification  of  the  facts 
of  the  universe,  material  and  mental,  which  may  be  regarded 
as  hints  and  adumbrations  of  the  ultimate  ground,  and  reason, 
and  cause,  of  the  universe.  We  shall  venture  to  classify  these 
facts  as  indicative  of  some  fundamental  relation  ;  (i.)  to  Per- 
manent Being  or  Reality;  (ii.)  to  Reason  and  Thought;  (iii.)  to 
Moral  Ideas  and  Ends. 

(i.)  Facts  of  the  universe  which  indicate  some  fundamental  re- 
lation to  Permanent  Being  or  Reality. 

1.  Qualitative  Phenomena  (properties,  attributes,  qualities) 
— the  predicates  of  a  subject;  which  phenomena,  being  charac- 
terized by  likeness  and  unlikeness,  are  capable  of  compari- 
son and  classification,  and  thus  of  revealing  something  as  to 
the  nature  of  the  subject. 

2.  Dynamical  Phenomena  (protension,  movement,  succes- 


176  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

sion) — events  transpiring  in  time,  having  beginning,  succes- 
sion, and  end,  which  present  themselves  to  us  as  the  expres- 
sion oipower^  and  throw  back  their  distinctive  characteristics 
on  their  dynamic  source. 

3.  Quantitative  Phenomena  (totahty,  multipHcity,  relative 
unity) — a  multiplicity  of  objects  having  relative  and  compo- 
site unity,  which  suggests  some  relation  to  an  absolute  and 
indivisible  unity. 

4.  Statical  Phenomena  (extension,  magnitude,  divisibility) 
— bodies  co-existing  in  space  which  are  limited,  conditioned, 
relative,  dependent,  and  indicate  some  relation  to  that  which 
is  self-existent,  unconditioned,  and  absolute. 

(ii.)  Facts  of  the  tmiverse  which  indicate  sofne  fundamental  re- 
lation to  Reason  or  Thought. 

1.  Numerical  and  Geometrical  Proportion. — Definite  pro- 
portion of  elements  (Chemistry),  symmetrical  arrangement  of 
parts  (Crystallography),  numerical  and  geometrical  relation  of 
the  forms  and  movements  of  the  heavenly  bodies  (Spherical 
Astronomy),  all  of  which  are  capable  of  exact  mathematical 
expression. 

2.  Archetypal  Forms. — The  uniform  succession  of  new  ex- 
istences, and  the  progressive  evolution  of  new  orders  and 
species,  conformable  to  fixed  and  definite  ideal  archetypes, 
the  indication  of  a  comprehensive  plan  (Morphological  Bot- 
any, Comparative  Anatomy). 

3.  Teleology  of  Organs. — The  adaptation  of  organs  to  the 
fulfillment  of  special  functions,  indicating  design  (Compara- 
tive Physiology). 

4.  Combination  of  Homotypes  and  Analogues. — Diversified 
homologous  forms  made  to  fulfill  analogous  functions,  or 
special  purposes  fulfilled  whilst  maintaining  a  general  plan, 
indicating  choice  and  alternativity. 

(iii.)  Facts  of  the  wtiverse  which  indicate  some  fundamental 
relation  to  Moral  Ideas  and  E?tds. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  ^       177 

1.  Ethical  Distinctions. — The  universal  tendency  to  dis- 
criminate between  voluntary  acts  as  right  or  wrong,  indicating 
some  relation  to  an  immutable  moral  standard  of  right. 

2.  Sense  of  Obligation. — The  universal  consciousness  of 
dependence  and  obligation,  indicating  some  relation  to  a 
Supreme  Power,  an  Absolute  Authority. 

3.  Feeling  of  Responsibility. — The  universal  consciousness 
of  liability  to  be  required  to  give  account  for,  and  endure  the 
consequences  of  our  action,  indicating  some  relation  to  a 
Supreme  Judge. 

4.  Retributive  Issues. — The  pleasure  and  pain  resulting 
from  moral  action  in  this  life,  and  the  universal  anticipation 
of  pleasure  or  pain  in  the  future,  as  the  consequence  of  pres- 
ent conduct,  indicate  an  absolute  Justice  ruling  the  world 
and  man. 

Now,  if  the  universe  be  a  created  effect,  it  must,  in  some  de- 
gree at  least,  reveal  the  character  of  its  Author  and  cause.  We 
are  entitled  to  regard  it  as  a  created  symbol  and  image  of  the 
Deity ;  it  must  bear  the  impress  of  his  power ;  it  must  reveal 
his  infinite  presence  ;  it  must  express  his  thoughts ;  it  must  em- 
body and  realize  his  ideals,  so  far,  at  least,  as  material  symbols 
will  permit.  Just  as  we  see  the  power  and  thought  of  man  re- 
vealed in  his  works,  his  energy  and  skill,  his  ideal  and  his  taste 
expressed  in  his  mechanical,  artistic,  and  literary  creations,  so 
we  may  see  the  mind  and  character  of  God  displayed  in  his 
works.  The  skill  and  contrivance  of  Watts,  and  Fulton,  and 
Stephenson  were  exhibited  in  their  mechanical  productions. 
The  pure,  the  intense,  the  visionary  impersonation  of  the  soul 
which  the  artist  had  conjured  in  his  own  imagination  was  wrought 
out  in  Psyche.  The  colossal  grandeur  of  Michael  Angelo's 
ideals,  the  ethereal  and  saintly  elegance  of  Raphael's  were  real- 
ized upon  the  canvas.  So  he  who  is  familiar  v/ith  the  ideal  of 
the  sculptor  or  the  painter  can  identify  his  creations  even  when 
the  author's  name  is  not  affixed.  And  so  the  "  eternal  Power  " 
of  God  is  "  clearly  seen  ^'  in  the  mighty  orbs  which  float  in  the 

12 


178        .  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

illimitable  space.  The  vastness  of  the  universe  shadows  forth 
the  infinity  of  God.  The  indivisible  unity  of  space  and  the 
ideal  unity  of  the  universe  reflect  the  unity  of  God.  The  mate- 
rial forms  around  us  are  symbols  of  divine  ideas,  and  the  suc- 
cessive history  of  the  universe  is  an  expression  of  the  divine 
thought ;  whilst  the  ethical  ideas  and  sentiments  inherent  in  the 
human  mind  are  a  reflection  of  the  moral  character  of  God. 

The  reader  can  not  have  failed  to  observe  the  form  in  which 
the  Theistic  argument  is  stated  ;  "  if  the  finite  universe  is  a 
created  effect,  it  must  reveal  something  as  to  the  nature  of  its 
cause  :  if  the  existing  order  and  arrangement  of  the  universe 
had  a  commencement  in  time,  it  must  have  an  ultimate  and 
adequate  cause."  The  question,  therefore,  presents  itself  in  a 
definite  form:  "/r  the  universe  finite  or  infinite;  had  the  order 
of  the  tmiverse  a  begifining,  or  is  it  eternal  f^ 

It  will  be  seen  at  a  glance  that  this  is  the  central  and  vital 
question  in  the  Theistic  argument.  If  the  order  and  arrange- 
ment of  the  universe  is  eternal,  then  that  order  is  an  inherent 
law  of  nature,  and,  as  eternal,  does  not  imply  a  cause  ab  extra; 
if  it  is  not  eternal,  then  the  ultimate  cause  of  that  order  must 
be  a  power  above  and  beyond  nature.  In  the  former  case  the 
minor  premise  of  the  Theistic  syllogism  is  utterly  invalidated  ; 
in  the  latter  case  it  is  abundantly  sustained. 

Some  Theistic  writers — as  Descartes,  Pascal,  Leibnitz,  and 
Saisset — have  made  the  fatal  admission  that  the  universe  is,  in 
some  sense,  infinite  and  eternal.  In  making  this  admission  they 
have  unwittingly  surrendered  the  citadel  of  strength,  and  de- 
prived the  argument  by  which  they  would  prove  the  being  of  a 
God  ©f  all  its  logical  force.  That  argument  is  thus  presented  by 
Saisset :  "  The  finite  supposes  the  infinite.  Extension  supposes 
first  space,  then  immensity :  duration  supposes  first  time,  then 
eternity.  A  sudden  and  irresistible  judgment  refers  this  to  the 
necessary,  infinite,  perfect  being."^  But  if  "  the  world  is  in- 
finite and  eternal,"^  may  not  nature,  or  the  totality  of  all  exist- 
ence {to  TTotv),  be  the  necessary,  infinite,  and  perfect  Being  ?     An 

*  "Modern  Pantheism,"  vol.  ii.  p.  205.  ^  Ibid.,  p.  123. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


179 


infinite  and  eternal  universe  has  the  reason  of  its  existence  in 
itself,  and  the  existence  of  such  a  universe  can  never  prove  to 
us  the  existence  of  an  infinite  and  eternal  God. 

A  closer  examination  of  the  statements  and  reasonings  of  Des- 
cartes, Pascal,  and  Leibnitz,  as  furnished  by  Saisset,  will  show 
that  these  distinguished  mathematicans  were  misled  by  the  false 
notion  of  ^^  mathematical  m^mUxdiQ.^'  Their  infinite  universe, 
after  all,  is  not  an  "absolute,"  but  a  "relative"  infinite;  that  is, 
the  indefinite.  "  The  universe  must  extend  mdefinitely  in  time 
and  space,  in  the  infinite  greatness,  and  in  the  infinite  littleness 
of  its  parts — in  the  infinite  variety  of  its  species,  of  its  forms, 
and  of  its  degrees  of  existence.  The  finite  can  not  express  the 
infinite  but  by  being  multiplied  infinitely.  The  finite,  so  far  as 
it  is  finite,  is  not  in  any  reasonable  relation,  or  in  any  intelligi- 
ble proportion  to  the  infinite.  But  the  finite,  as  multiplied  infi- 
nitely,^ ages  upon  ages,  spaces  upon  spaces,  stars  beyond  stars, 
worlds  beyond  worlds,  is  a  true  expression  of  the  Infinite  Being. 
Does  it  follow,  because  the  universe  has  no  limits, — that  it 
must  therefore  be  eternal,  immense,  infinite  as  God  himself."* 
No  ;  that  is  but  a  vain  scruple,  which  springs  from  the  imagi- 
nation, and  not  from  the  reason.  The  imagination  is  always 
confounding  what  reason  should  ever  distinguish,  eternity  and 
time,  immensity  and  space,  relative  infinity  and  absolute  infinity. 
The  Creator  alone  is  eternal,  immense,  absolutely  infinite."^ 

The  introduction  of  the  idea  of  "  the  mathematical  infinite  " 
into  metaphysical  speculation,  especially  by  Kant  and  Hamil- 
ton, with  the  design,  it  would  seem,  of  transforming  the  idea  of 
infinity  into  a  sensuous  conception,  has  generated  innumerable 
paralogisms  which  disfigure  the  pages  of  their  philosophical 
writings.  This  procedure  is  grounded  in  the  common  fallacy 
of  supposing  that  infinity  and  quantity  are  compatible  attributes, 
and  susceptible  of  mathematical  synthesis.     This  insidious  and 

^  "  The  infinite  is  distinct  from  the  finite,  and  consequently  fi-om  the  mul- 
tiplication of  the  finite  by  itself;  that  is,  from  the  indefinite.  That  which  is 
not  infinite,  added  as  many  times  as  you  please  to  itself,  will  not  become  in- 
finite."— Cousin,  "  Hist,  of  Philos.,"  vol.  ii.  p.  231. 

"^  Saisset,  "  Modern  Pantheism,"  vol.  ii.  pp.  127,  128. 


i8o  CHMISTIANITY  AND 

plausible  error  is  ably  refuted  by  a  writer  in  the  "  North  Ameri- 
can Review.'"  We  can  not  do  better  than  transfer  his  argu- 
ment to  our  pages  in  an  abridged  form. 

"  Mathematics  is  conversant  with  quantities  and  quantitative 
relations.  The  conception  of  quantity,  therefore,  if  rigorously 
analyzed,  will  indicate  d  priori  the  natural  and  impassable 
boundaries  of  the  science ;  while  a  subsequent  examination  of 
the  quantities  called  infinite  in  the  mathematical  sense,  and  of 
the  algebraic  symbol  of  infinity,  will  be  seen  to  verify  the  re- 
sults of  this  a  priori  analysis. 

"  Quantity  is  that  attribute  of  things  in  virtue  of  which  they 
are  susceptible  of  exact  mensuration.  The  question  howmuch^ 
or  how  many  (quantus),  implies  the  answer,  so  much,  or  so  many 
{tantus) ;  but  the  answer  is  possible  only  through  reference  to 
some  standard  of  magnitude  or  multitude  arbitrarily  assumed. 
Every  object,  therefore,  of  which  quantity,  in  the  mathematical 
sense,  is  predicable,  must  be  by  its  essential  nature  mensurable. 
Now  mensurability  implies  the  existence  of  actual,  definite  lim- 
its, since  without  them  there  could  be  no  fixed  relation  between 
the  given  object  and  the  standard  of  measurement,  and,  con- 
sequently, no  possibility  of  exact  mensuration.  In  fact,  since 
quantification  is  the  object  of  all  mathematical  operations, 
mathematics  may  be  not  inaptly  defined  as  the  science  of  the  de- 
terminations of  limits.  It  is  evident,  therefore,  that  the  terms 
quantity  3.n6.  finitude  express  the  same  attribute,  namel}^,  limita- 
tion—the^ former  relatively,  the  latter  absolutely ;  for  quantity  is 
limitation  considered  with  relation  to  some  standard  of  meas- 
urement, and  finitude  is  limitation  considered  simply  in  itself 
The  sphere  of  quantity,  therefore,  is  absolutely  identical  with- 
the  sphere  of  the  finite ;  and  the  phrase  infinite  quantity,  if 
strictly  construed,  is  a  contradiction  in  terms. 

"  The  result  thus  attained  by  considering  abstract,  quantity 

is  corroborated  by  considering  concrete  and  discrete  quantities. 

Such  expressions  as  infinite  sphere,  radius,  parallelogram,  line, 

and  so  forth,  are  self-contradictory.     A  sphere  is  limited  by  its 

^  "  The  Conditioned  and  the  Unconditioned,"  No.  CCV.  art.  iii.  (1864). 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  l8i 

own  periphery,  and  a  radius  by  the  centre  and  circumference 
of  its  circle.  A  parallelogram  of  infinite  altitude  is  impossible, 
because  the  limit  of  its  altitude  is  assigned  in  the  side  which 
must  be  parallel  to  its  base  in  order  to  constitute  it  a  parallelo- 
gram. In  brief,  all  figuration  is  limitation.  The  contradiction 
in  the  term  infinite  li?ie  is  not  quite  so  obvious,  but  can  readily 
be  made  apparent.  Objectively,  a  line  is  only  the  termination 
of  a  surface,  and  a  surface  the  termination  of  a  solid ;  hence  a 
line  can  not  exist  apart  from  an  extended  quantity,  nor  an  infi- 
nite line  apart  from  an  infinite  quantity.  But  as  this  term  has 
just  been  shown  to  be  self-contradictory,  an  infinite  line  can 
not  exist  objectively  at  all.  Again,  every  line  is  extension  in 
one  dimension ;  hence  a  mathematical  quantity,  hence  mensura- 
ble, hence  finite  ;  you  must,  therefore,  deny  that  a  line  is  a 
quantity,  or  else  afiirm  that  it  is  finite. 

"  The  same  conclusion  is  forced  upon  us,  if  from  geometry 
we  turn  to  arithmetic.  The  phrases  infinite  number^  infinite  se- 
ries^ infinite  process,  and  so  forth,  are  all  contradictory  when 
literally  construed.  Number  is  a  relation  among  separate  uni- 
ties or  integers,  which,  considered  objectively  as  independent 
of  our  cognitive  powers,  must  constitute  an  exact  sum  ;  and 
this  exactitude,  or  synthetic  totality,  is  limitation.  If  consider- 
ed subjectively  in  the  mode  of  its  cognition,  a  number  is  infi- 
nite only  in  the  sense  that  it  is  beyond  the  power  of  our  im- 
agination or  conception,  which  is  an  abuse  of  the  term.  In 
either  case  the  totality  is  fixed ;  that  is,  finite.  So,  too,  of  series 
zxi^  process.  Since  every  series  involves  a  succession  of  terms 
or  numbers,  and  every  process  a  succession  of  steps  or  stages, 
the  notion  of  series  and  process  plainly  involves  that  of  num- 
ber, and  must  be  rigorously  dissociated  from  the  idea  of  infinity. 
At  any  one  step,  at  any  one  term,  the  number  attained  is  de- 
terminate,  hence  finite.  The  fact  that,  by  the  law  of  the  series 
or  of  the  process,  we  may  continue  the  operation  as  long  as  we 
please,  does  not  justify  the  application  of  the  term  infinite  to 
the  operation  itself ;  if  any  thing  is  infinite,  it  is  the  will  which 
continues  the  operation,  which  is  absurd  if  said  of  human  wills. 


1 82  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

Consequently,  the  attribute  of  infinity  is  not  predicable  either 
of  *  diminution  without  limit,'  *  augmentation  without  limit,'  or 
'endless  approximation  to  a  fixed  limit,'  for  these  mathemat- 
ical processes  continue  only  as  we  continue  them,  consist  of 
steps  successively'  accomplished,  and  are  limited  by  the  very 
fact  of  this  serial  incompletion. 

"  We  can  not  forbear  pointing  out  an  important  application 
of  these  results  to  the  Critical  Philosophy.  Kant  bases  each 
of  his  famous  four  antinomies  on  the  demand  of  pure  reason 
for  unconditioned  totality  in  a  regressive  series  of  conditions. 
This,  he  says,  must  be  realized  either  in  an  absolute  first  of  the 
series,  conditioning  all  the  other  members,  but  itself  uncondi- 
tioned, or  else  in  the  absolute  infinity  of  the  series  without  a 
first ;  but  reason  is  utterly  unable,  on  account  of  mutual  con- 
tradiction, to  decide  in  which  of  the  two  alternatives  the  uncon- 
ditioned is  found.  By  the  principles  we  have  laid  down,  how- 
ever, the  problem  is  solved.  The  absolute  infinity  of  a  series 
is  a  contradiction  in  adjedo.  As  every  number,  although  im- 
measurably and  inconceivably  great,  is  impossible  unless  unity 
is  given  as  its  basis,  so  every  series,  being  itself  a  number,  is 
impossible  unless  a  first  tenn  is  given  as  a  commencement. 
Through  a  first  term  alone  is  the  unconditioned  possible;  that 
is,  if  it  does  not  exist  in  a  first  term,  it  can  not  exist  at  all ;  of 
the  two  alternatives,  therefore,  one  altogether  disappears,  and 
reason  is  freed  from  the  dilemma  of  a  compulsory  yet  impossi- 
ble decision.  Even  if  it  should  be  allowed  that  the  series  has 
no  first  term,  but  has  originated  ab  cBterno,  it  must  always  at 
each  instant  have  a  last  term;  the  series,  as  a  whole,  can  not 
be  infinite,  and  hence  can  not,  as  Kant  claims  it  can,  realize  in 
its  wholeness  unconditioned  totality.  Since  countless  terms 
forever  remain  unreached,  the  series  is  forever  limited  by  them. 
Kant  himself  admits  that  it  ca?i  never  he  completed,  and  is  only 
potentially  infinite  ;  actually,  therefore,  by  his  own  admission,  it 
is  finite.  But  a  last  term  implies  a  first,  as  absolutely  as  one  end 
of  a  string  implies  the  other ;  the  only  possibility  of  an  uncon- 
ditioned lies  in  Kant's  first  alternative,  and  if,  as  he  maintains, 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  183 

Reason  must  demand  it,  she  can  not  hesitate  in  her  decisions. 
That  number  is  a  limitation  is  no  new  truth,  and  that  every  se- 
ries involves  number  is  self-evident ;  and  it  is  surprising  that  so 
radical  a  criticism  on  Kant's  system  should  never  have  sug- 
gested itself  to  his  opponents.  Even  the  so-called  moments 
of  time  can  not  be  regarded  as  constituting  a  real  series,  for  a 
series  can  not  be  real  except  through  its  divisibility  into  mem- 
bers ;  whereas  time  is  indivisible,  and  its  partition  into  mo- 
ments is  a  conventional  fiction.  Exterior  limitability  and  inte- 
rior divisibility  result  equally  from  the  possibility  of  discontinu- 
ity. Exterior  illimitability  and  interior  indivisibility  are  simple 
phases  of  the  same  attribute  of  necessary  continuity  contemplated 
under  different  aspects.  From  this  principle  flows  another 
upon  which  it  is  impossible  to  lay  too  much  stress,  namely, 
illimitability  and  indivisibility,  infinity  and  unity ^  reciprocally  ne- 
cessitate each  other.  Hence  the  Quantitative  Infinites  must  be 
also  Units,  and  the  division  of  space  and  time,  implying  absolute 
contradiction,  is  not  even  cogitable  as  an  hypothesis.* 

"  The  word  infinite^  therefore,  in  mathematical  usage,  as  ap- 
plied to  process  and  to  quantity^  has  a  two-fold  signification. 
An  infinite  process  is  one  which  we  can  continue  as  long  as  we 
please,  but  which  exists  solely  in  our  continuance  of  it.^  An 
infinite  quantity  is  one  which  exceeds  our  powers  of  mensura- 
tion or  of  conception,  but  which,  nevertheless,  has  bounds  and 
limits  in  itself.^  Hence  the  possibility  of  relation  among  infinite 
quantities,  and  of  different  orders  of  infinities.  If  the  words 
infinite,  infinity,  infinitesimal,  should  be  banished  from  mathe- 
matical treatises  and  replaced  by  the  words  indefinite,  indefinity, 
and  indefinitesimal,  mathematics  would  suffer  no  loss,  while,  by 
removing  a  perpetual  source  of  confusion,  metaphysics  would 
get  great  gain." 

The  above  must  be  regarded  as  a  complete  refutation  of  the 

^  By  the  application  of  these  principles  the  WTiter  in  the  "  North  American 
Review  "  completely  dissolves  the  antinomies  by  which  Hamilton  seeks  to 
sustain  his  "  Philosophy  of  the  Conditioned."  See  "  North  American  Re- 
view," 1864,  pp.  432-437- 

^  De  Morgan,  "  Diff.  and  Integ.  Calc."  p.  9.  ^  Id.,  ib.,  p.  25. 


1 84  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

position  taken  by  Hume,  to  wit,  that  the  idea  of  nature  eternally 
existing  in  a  state  of  order,  without  a  cause  other  than  the 
eternally  inherent  laws  of  nature,  is  no  more  self-contradictory 
than  the  idea  of  an  eternally-existing  and  infinite  mind,  who 
originated  this  order — a  God  existing  without  a  cause.  The 
eternal  and  infinite  Mind  is  indivisible  and  illimitable ;  nature, 
in  its  totality,  as  well  as  in  its  individual  parts,  has  interior  di- 
visibility, and  exterior  limitability.  The  infinity  of  God  is  not 
a  quantitative,  but  a  qualitative  infinity.  The  miscalled  eternity 
and  infinity  of  nature  is  an  indefinite  extension  and  protension 
in  time  and  space,  and,  as  quantitative,  must  necessarily  be  lim- 
ited and  measurable,  therefore ^nite. 

The  universe  of  sense-perception  and  sensuous  imagination 
is  a  phenomenal  universe,  a  genesis,  a  perpetual  becoming — an 
entrance  into  existence,  and  an  exit  thence ;  the  Theist  is, 
therefore,  perfectly  justified  in  regarding  it  as  disqualified  for 
self-existence,  and  in  passing  behind  it  for  the  Supreme  Entity 
that  needs  no  cause.  Phenomena  demand  causation,  entities 
dispense  with  it.  No  one  asks  for  a  cause  of  the  space  which 
contains  the  universe,  or  of  the  Eternity  on  the  bosom  of  which 
it  floats.  Everywhere  the  line  is  necessarily  drawn  upon  the 
same  principle  ;  that  entities  may  have  self-existence,  phenom- 
ena must  have  a  cause.  ^ 

IV.  Psychological  analysis  clearly  attests  that  in  the  phenomena 
of  consciousness  there  are  found  elements  or  principles  which,  in 
their  regular  and  normal  development,  transcend  the  limits  of  con- 
sciousness, and  attain  to  the  hiowledge  of  Absolute  Being,  Absolute 
Reason,  Absolute  Good,  i.  e.,  God. 

The  analysis  of  thought  clearly  reveals  that  the  mind  of  man 
is  in  possession  of  ideas,  notions,  beliefs,  principles  (as  e.  g.,  the 
idea  of  space,  duration,  cause,  substance,  unity,  infinity),  which 
are  not  derived  from  sensation  and  experience,  and  which  can 
not  be  drawn  out  of  sensation  and  experience  by  any  process 
of  generalization.     These  ideas  have  this  incontestable  peculiar- 

^  "  Science,  Nescience,  and  Faith,"  in  Martineau's  "  Essays,"  p.  206. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  185 

ity,  as  distinguished  from  all  the  phenomena  of  sensation,  that, 
whilst  the  latter  are  particular,  contingent,  and  relative,  the 
former  are  universal^  necessary^  and  absolute.  As  an  example, 
and  a  proof  of  the  reality  and  validity  of  this  distinction,  take 
the  ideas  oibody  and  oi  space.,  the  former  unquestionably  derived 
from  experience,  the  latter  supplied  by  reason  alone.  "  I  ask 
you,  can  not  you  conceive  this  book  to  be  destroyed  ?  Without 
doubt  you  can.  And  can  not  you  conceive  the  whole  world  to 
be  destroyed,  and  no  matter  whatever  in  existence  ?  You  can. 
For  you,  constituted  as  you  are,  the  supposition  of  the  non-ex- 
istence of  bodies  implies  no  contradiction.  And  what  do  we 
call  the  idea  of  a  thing  which  we  can  conceive  of  as  non-exist- 
ing ?  We  call  it  a  continge?it  and  relative  idea.  But  if  you  can 
conceive  this  book  to  be  destroyed,  all  bodies  destroyed,  can 
you  suppose  space  to  be  destroyed  ?  You  can  not.  It  is  in  the 
power  of  man's  thought  to  conceive  the  non-existence  of  bod- 
ies ;  it  is  not  in  the  power  of  man's  thought  to  conceive  the 
non-existence  of  space.  The  idea  of  space  is  thus  a  necessary 
and  absolute  idea."\ 

Take,  again,  the  ideas  of  event  and  cause.  The  idea  of  an 
event  is  a  contingent  idea  \  it  is  the  idea  of  something  which 
might  or  might  not  have  happened.  There  is  no  impossibility 
or  contradiction  in  either  supposition.  The  idea  of  cause  is  a 
necessary  idea.  An  event  being  given,  the  idea  of  cause  is  nec- 
essarily implied.  An  uncaused  event  is  an  impossible  concep- 
tion. The  idea  of  cause  is  also  a  universal  idea  extending  to 
all  events,  actual  or  conceivable,  and  affirmed  by  all  minds. 
It  is  a  rational  fact,  attested  by  universal  consciousness,  that 
we  can  not  think  of  an  event  transpiring  without  a  cause  ;  of  a 
thing  being  the  author  of  its  own  existence  j  of  something  gen- 
erated by  and  out  of  nothing.  Ex  nihilo  nihil  is  a  universal 
law  of  thought  and  of  things.  This  universal  "  law  of  caus- 
ality "  is  clearly  distinguishable  from  a  general  truth  reached  by 
induction.  For  example,  it  is  a  very  general  truth  that,  during 
twenty-four  hours,  day  is  succeeded  by  night.  But  this  is  not 
"'  Cousin's  "  Hist,  of  Philos.,"  vol.  ii.  p.  214. 


I 


1 86  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

a  necessary  truth,  neither  is  it  a  universal  truth.  It  does  not 
extend  to  all  known  lands,  as,  for  example,  to  Nova  Zembla. 
It  does  not  hold  true  of  the  other  planets.  Nor  does  it  extend 
to  all  possible  lands.  We  can  easily  conceive  of  lands  plunged 
in  eternal  night,  or  rolling  in  eternal  day.  With  another  sys- 
tem of  worlds,  one  can  conceive  other  physics,  but  one  can  not 
conceive  other  metaphysics.  It  is  impossible  to  imagine  a 
world  in  which  the  law  of  causality  does  not  reign.  Here, 
then,  we  have  one  absolute  principle  (among  others  which  may 
be  enumerated),  the  existence  and  reality  of  which  is  revealed, 
not  by  sensation,  but  by  reason — a  principle  which  transcends 
the  limits  of  experience,  and  which,  in  its  regular  and  logical 
development,  attains  the  knowledge  of  the  Absolute  Cause — 
the  First  Cause  of  all  causes — God. 

Thus  it  is  evident  that  the  human  mind  is  in  possession  of 
two  distinct  orders  of  primitive  cognitions, — one,  contingent, 
relative,  and  phenomenal ;  the  other  universal,  necessary,  and 
absolute.  These  two  distinct  orders  of  cognition  presuppose 
the  existence  in  man  of  two  distinct  faculties  or  organs  of 
knowledge  —  sensation,  external  and  internal,  which  perceives 
the  contingent,  relative,  and  phenomenal,  and  reason,  which  ap- 
prehends the  universal,  necessary,  and  absolute.  The  knowl- 
edge which  is  derived  from  sensation  and  experience  is  called 
empirical  knowledge,  or  knowledge  cl  posteriori,  because  subse- 
quent to,  and  consequent  upon,  the  exercise  of  the  faculties  of 
observation.  The  knowledge  derived  from  reason  is  called 
transcendental  knowledge,  or  knowledge  (i  priori,  because  it  fur- 
nishes laws  to,  and  governs  the  exercise  of  the  faculties  of  ob- 
servation and  thought,  and  is  not  the  result  of  their  exercise. 
The  sensibility  brings  the  mind  into  relation  with  ihQ  physical 
world,  the  reason  puts  mind  in  communication  with  the  in- 
telligible world — the  sphere  of  d  priori  principles,  of  necessary 
and  absolute  truths,  which  depend  upon  neither  the  world  nor 
the  conscious  self,  and  which  reveal  to  man  the  existence  of 
the  soul,  nature,  and  God.  Every  distinct  fact  of  consciousness 
is  thus  at  once  psychological  and  ontological,  and  contains  these 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  187 

three  fundamental  ideas,  which  we  can  not  go  beyond,  or  can- 
cel by  any  possible  analysis — the  soiii,  with  its  faculties ;  matter, 
with  its  qualities  ;  God,  with  his  perfections. 

We  do  not  profess  to  be  able  to  give  a  clear  explication  and 
complete  enumeration  of  all  the  ideas  of  reason,  and  of  the  nec- 
essary and  universal  principles  or  axioms  which  are  grounded 
on  these  ideas.  This  is  still  the  grand  desideratum  of  meta- 
physical science.  Its  achievement  wall  give  us  a  primordial 
logic,  which  shall  be  as  exact  in  its  procedure  and  as  certain 
in  its  conclusions  as  the  mathematical  sciences.  Meantime, 
it  may  be  affirmed  that  philosophic  analysis,  in  the  person 
of  Plato,  Aristotle,  Kant,  and  Cousin,  has  succeeded  in  dis- 
engaging such  d  priori  ideas,  and  formulating  such  principles 
and  laws  of  thought,  as  lead  infallibly  to  the  cognition  of  the 
Absolute  Being,  the  Absolute  Reason,  the  Absolute  Good,  that  is, 
God. 

It  would  carry  us  too  far  beyond  our  present  design  were 
we  to  exhibit,  in  each  instance,  the  process  of  immediate  ab- 
straction by  which  the  contingent  and  relative  element  of  knowl- 
edge is  eliminated,  and  the  necessary  and  absolute  principle 
is  disengaged.  We  shall  simply  state  the  method,  and  show 
its  application  by  a  single  illustration. 

There  are  unquestionably /«^^  sorts  of  abstraction :  i.  ^'■Com- 
parative abstraction,  operating  upon  several  real  objects,  and 
seizing  their  resemblances  in  order  to  form  an  abstract  idea, 
which  is  collective  and  mediate  ;  collective,  because  different 
individuals  concur  in  its  formation  ;  mediate,  because  it  re- 
quires several  intermediate  operations."  This  is  the  method 
of  the  physical  sciences,  which  comprises  comparison,  abstrac- 
tion, and  generalization.  The  result  in  this  process  is  the  at- 
tainment of  a  general  truth.  2.  "  Immediate  abstraction,  not 
comparative  ;  operating  not  upon  several  concretes,  but  upon  a 
single  one,  eliminating  and  neglecting  its  individual  and  varia- 
ble part,  and  disengaging  the  absolute  part,  which  it  raises  at 
once  to  its  pure  form."  The  parts  to  be  eliminated  in  a  con- 
crete cognition  are,  first,  the  quality  of  the  object,  and  the  cir- 


l88  CHBISTIANITY  AND 

cumstances  under  which  the  absolute  unfolds  itself;  and  sec- 
ondly, the  quality  of  the  subject,  which  perceives  but  does  not 
constitute  it.  The  phenomena  of  the  me  and  the  not-me  being 
eliminated,  the  absolute  remains.  This  is  the  process  of  ra- 
tional psychology,  and  the  result  obtained  is  a  universal  and 
necessary  truth. 

"  Let  us  take,  as  an  example,  the  principle  of  cause.  To  be 
able  to  say  that  the  event  I  see  must  have  a  cause,  it  is  not 
indispensable  to  have  seen  several  events  succeed  each  other. 
The  principle  which  compels  me  to  pronounce  this  judgment 
is  already  complete  in  the  first  as  in  the  last  event ;  it  can  not 
change  in  respect  to  its  object,  it  can  not  change  in  itself;  it 
neither  increases  nor  decreases  with  the  greater  or  less  num- 
ber of  applications.  The  only  difference  that  it  is  subject  to 
in  regard  to  us  is  that  we  apply  it,  whether  we  remark  it  or  not, 
whether  we  disengage  it  or  not  from  its  particular  application. 
The  question  is  not  to  eliminate  the  particularity  of  the  phe- 
nomenon wherein  it  appears  to  us,  whether  it  be  the  fall  of  a 
leaf  or  the  murder  of  a  man,  in  order  immediately  to  conceive, 
in  a  general  and  abstract  manner,  the  necessity  of  a  cause  for 
every  event  that  begins  to  exist.  Here  it  is  not  because  I  am 
the  same,  or  have  been  affected  in  the  same  manner  in  several 
different  cases,  that  I  have  come  to  this  general  and  abstract 
conception.  A  leaf  falls  ;  at  the  same  moment  I  think,  I  be- 
lieve, I  declare  that  this  falling  of  the  leaf  must  have  a  cause. 
A  man  has  been  killed ;  at  the  same  instant  I  believe,  I  pro- 
claim that  this  death  must  have  a  cause.  Each  one  of  these 
facts  contains  particular  and  variable  circumstances,  and  some- 
thing universal  and  necessary,  to  wit,  both  of  them  can  not  but 
have  a  cause.  Now  I  am  perfectly  able  to  disengage  the  uni- 
versal from  the  particular  in  regard  to  the  first  fact  as  well  as 
in  regard  to  the  second  fact,  for  the  universal  is  in  the  first 
quite  as  well  as  in  the  second.  In  fact,  if  the  principle  of 
causality  is  not  universal  in  the  first  fact,  neither  will  it  be  in 
the  second,  nor  in  the  third,  nor  in  the  thousandth  ;  for  a  thou- 
sandth is  not  nearer  than  the  first  to  the  infinite — to  absolute 


OBEEK  FHILOSOPRY.  189 

universality.  It  is  the  same,  and  still  more  evidently,  with 
necessity.  Pay  particular  attention  to  this  point ;  if  necessity  is 
not  in  the  first  fact,  it  can  not  be  in  any  ;  for  necessity  can  not 
be  formed  little  by  little,  and  by  successive  increments.  If,  on 
the  first  murder  I  see,  I  do  not  exclaim  that  this  murder  had 
necessarily  a  cause,  at  the  thousandth  murder,  although  it  shall 
be  proved  that  all  the  others  had  causes,  I  shall  have  the  right 
to  think  that  this  murder  has,  very  probably,  also  a  cause,  but 
I  shall  never  have  the  right  to  say  that  it  necessarily  had  a 
cause.  But  when  universality  and  necessity  are  already  in  a 
single  case,  that  case  is  sufficient  to  entitle  me  to  deduce  them 
from"  it,"^  and  we  may  add,  also,  to  affirm  them  of  every  other 
event  that  may  transpire. 

The  following  schema  will  exhibit  the  generally  accepted  re- 
sults of  this  method  of  analysis  applied  to  the  phenomena  of 
thought : 

(i.)  Universal  and  necessary  principles^  or  primitive  judgments 
from  whence  is  derived  the  cognition  of  Absolute  Being. 

1.  The  principle  of  Substance;  thus  enounced — "every 
quality  supposes  2i  subject  or  real  being." 

2.  The  principle  of  Causality ;  "  every  thing  that  begins  to 
be  supposes  2,  power  adequate  to  its  production,  /.  ^.,  an  effi- 
cient cause." 

3.  The  principle  of  Unity ;  "  all  differentiation  and  plurality 
supposes  an  incomposite  unity ;  all  diversity,  an  ultimate  and 
indivisible  identity." 

4.  The  principle  of  the  Unconditioned;  "the  finite  supposes 
the  infinite,  the  dependent  supposes  the  self-existent,  the 
temporal  supposes  the  eternal." 

(ii.)  Universal  and  necessary  principles,  or  priinitive  judgments , 
from  which  is  derived  the  cognition  of  the  Absolute  Reaso7i. 

I.  The  principle  of  Ideality ;  thus  enounced,  "facts  of  order 
— definite  proportion,  symmetrical  arrangement,  numerical 
^  Cousin,  "True,  Beautiful,  and  Good,"  pp.  57,  58. 


* 


190  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

relation,  geometrical  form — having  a  commencement  in  time, 
present  themselves  to  us  as  the  expression  of  Ideas,  and  refer 
us  to  Mind  2i^  their  analogon,  and  exponent,  and  source." 

2.  The  pri?iciple  of  Consecutioft ;  "the  uniform  succession 
and  progressive  evolution  of  new  existences,  according  to  fix- 
ed definite  archetypes,  suppose  a  unity  of  thought — a  compre- 
hensive//(^;z  embracing  all  existence." 

3.  The  principle  of  Intentionality  or  Final  Cause ;  "  every 
means  supposes  an  end  contemplated,  and  a  choice  and 
adaptation  of  means  to  secure  the  eitd.^^ 

4.  The  priftciple  of  Personality ;  "  intelligent  purpose  and 
voluntary  choice  imply  a  personal  agent." 

(iii.)  Universal  and  necessary  principles,  or  primitive  judgments, 
from  whence  is  derived  the  cognition  of  the  Absolute  Good. 

1.  The  principle  of  Moral  Laiv ;  thus  enounced,  "the  ac- 
tion of  a  voluntary  agent  necessarily  characterized  as  7'ight  or 
wrong,  supposes  an  immutable  and  universal  standard  of 
right — an  absolute  moral  Law." 

2.  The  prificiple  of  Moral  Obligation  ;  "the  feeling  of  obli- 
gation to  obey  a  law  of  duty  supposes  a  Lawgiver  by  whose 
authority  we  are  obliged." 

3.  The  prhiciple  of  Moral  Desert ;  "the  feeling  of  personal 
accountability  and  of  moral  desert  supposes  -adjudge  to  whom 
we  must  give  account,  and  who  shall  determine  our  award." 

4.  The  pri7tciple  of  Retribution  ;  "  retributive  issues  in  this 
life,  and  the  existence  in  all  minds  of  an  impersonal  justice 
which  demands  that,  in  the  final  issue,  every  being  shall  re- 
ceive his  just  deserts,  suppose  a  being  of  absolute  justice 
wdio  shall  render  to  every  man  according  to  his  works." 

A  more  profound  and  exhaustive  analysis  may  perhaps  re- 
solve all  these  primitive  judgments  into  one  universal  principle 
or  law,  which  Leibnitz  has  designated  "  The  principle  or  law 
of  sufficient  reason,^^  and  which  is  thus  enounced — there  must 
be  an  ultimate  and  sufficient  reason  why  any  thing  exists,  and 


J 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


191 


why  it  is  as  it  is,  rather  than  otherwise  ;  that  is,  if  any  thing 
begins  to  be,  something  else  must  be  supposed  as  the  adequate 
ground,  and  reason,  and  cause  of  its  existence  ;"  or  again,  to 
state  the  law  in  view  of  our  present  discussion,  "  (f  the  fijiite 
universe^  with  its  eocisting  order  aiid  arrangement^  had  a  beginnings 
there  must  be  an  ultimate  and  sufficient  reason  why  it  exists^  and 
why  it  is  as  it  is,  rather  than  otherwise^  In  view  of  one  partic- 
ular class  of  phenomena,  or  special  order  of  facts,  this  "  princi- 
ple of  sufficient  reason  "  may  be  varied  in  the  form  of  its  state- 
ment, and  denominated  "  the  principle  of  substance,"  "  the 
principle  of  causality,"  "the  principle  of  intentionality,"  etc.; 
and,  it  may  be,  these  are  but  specific  judgments  under  the  one 
fundamental  and  generic  law  of  thought  which  constitutes  the 
major  premise  of  every  Theistic  syllogism. 

These  fundamental  principles,  primitive  judgments,  axioms, 
or  necessary  and  determinate  forms  of  thought,  exist  poten- 
tially or  germinally  in  all  human  minds;  they  are  spontane- 
ously developed  in  presence  of  the  phenomena  of  the  universe, 
material  and  mental ;  they  govern  the  original  movement  of  the 
mind,  even  when  not  appearing  in  consciousness  in  their  pure 
and  abstract  form ;  and  they  compel  us  to  affirm  a  permanent 
being  or  reality  behind  all  phenomena — 2,  power  adequate  to 
the  production  of  change,  back  of  all  events ;  a  perso7ial  Mtnd^ 
as  the  explanation  of  all  the  facts  of  order,  and  uniform  suc- 
cession, and  regular  evolution  ;  and  a  personal  Lawgiver  and 
Righteous  jfudge  as  the  ultimate  ground  and  reason  of  all  the 
phenomena  of  the  moral  world  ;  in  short,  to  affirm  an  Uncon- 
ditioned Cause  of  all  finite  and  secondary  causes  ;  a  First  Princi- 
ple of  all  principles  ;  an  Ultimate  Reason  of  all  reasons  ;  an  im- 
mutable Uncreated  Justice^  the  living  light  of  conscience ;  a  Ki7ig 
immortaly  eternal,  invisible,  the  only  wise  God,  the  ruler  of  the 
world  and  man. 

Our  position,  then,  is,  that  the  idea  of  God  is  revealed  to 
man  in  the  natural  and  spontaneous  development  of  his  intelli- 
gence, and  that  the  existence  of  a  Supreme  Reality  correspond- 
ing to,  and  represented  by  this  idea,  is  rationally  and  logically 


192  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

demonstrable,  and  therefore  justly  entitled  to  take  rank  as  part 
of  our  legitimate,  valid,  and  positive  knowledge. 

And  now  from  this  position,  which  we  regard  as  impregna- 
ble, we  shall  be  prepared  more  deliberately  and  intelligibly  to 
contemplate  the  various  assaults  which  are  openly  or  covertly 
made  upon  the  doctrine  that  God  is  cogiiizable  by  huina7i  reason. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  193 


CHAPTER  VL 

THE  UNKNOWN  GOD  {contiuucd). 

IS  GOD  COGNIZABLE  BY  REASON? 

"  The  abnegation  of  reason  is  not  the  evidence  of  faith,  but  the  confession 
of  despair." — Lightfoot. 

AT  the  outset  of  this  inquiry  we  attempted  a  hasty  group- 
ing of  the  various  parties  and  schools  which  are  arrayed 
against  the  doctrine  that  God  is  cognizable  by  human  reason, 
and  in  general  terms  we  sought  to  indicate  the  ground  they 
occupy. 

Viewed  from  a  philosophical  stand-point,  we  found  one  party 
marshalled  under  the  standard  of  Idealism  ;  another  of  Mate- 
rialism ;  and,  again,  another  of  Natural  Realism.  Regarded 
in  their  theological  aspects,  some  are  positive  Atheists ;  others, 
strange  to  say,  are  earnest  Theists ;  whilst  others  occupy  a  posi- 
tion of  mere  Indifferentism.  Yet,  notwithstanding  the  remark- 
able diversity,  and  even  antagonism  of  their  philosophical  and 
theological  opinions,  they  are  all  agreed  in  denying  to  reason 
any  valid  cognition  of  God. 

The  survey  of  Natural  Theism  we  have  completed  in  the 
previous  chapter  will  enable  us  still  further  to  indicate  the 
exact  points  against  which  their  attacks  are  directed,  and  also 
to  estimate  the  character  and  force  of  the  weapons  employed. 
With  or  without  design,  they  are,  each  in  their  way,  assailing 
one  or  other  of  the  principles  upon  which  we  rest  our  demon- 
stration of  the  being  of  God.  As  we  proceed,  we  shall  find 
that  Mill  and  the  Constructive  Idealists  are  really  engaged  in 
undermining  '''■  \h&  principle  of  substance  i'^  their  doctrine  is  a 
virtual  denial  of  all  objective  realities  answering  to  our  subjec- 
tive ideas  of  matter,  mind,  and  God.     The  assaults  of  Comte 

13 


194  CHRISTIANITY   AND 

and  the  Materialists  of  his  school  are  mainly  directed  against 
*'  the  principle  of  causality ."  and  "  the  principle  of  intentionality  ;" 
they  would  deny  to  man  all  knowledge  of  causes,  efficient  and 
final.  The  attacks  of  Hamilton  and  his  school  are  directed 
against  "  the  principle  of  the  unconditioned ;"  his  philosophy  of 
the  conditioned  is  a  plausible  attempt  to  deprive  man  of  all 
power  to  think  the  Infinite  and  Perfect,  to  conceive  the  Uncon- 
ditioned and  Ultimate  Cause ;  whilst  the  Dogmatic  Theologians 
are  borrowing,  and  recklessly  brandishing,  the  weapons  of  all 
these  antagonists,  and,  in  addition  to  all  this,  are  endeavoring 
to  show  the  insufficiency  of  "  the  principle  of  imity  "  and  the 
weakness  and  invalidity  of  "  the  moral  principles'^  which  are  re- 
garded by  us  as  relating  man  to  a  Moral  Personality,  and  as 
indicating  to  him  the  existence  of  a  righteous  God,  the  ruler  of 
the  world.  It  is  necessary,  therefore,  that  we  should  concentrate 
our  attention  yet  more  specifically  on  these  separate  lines  of  at- 
tack, and  attempt  a  minuter  examination  of  the  positions  as- 
sumed by  each,  and  of  the  arguments  by  which  they  are  seek- 
ing, directly  or  indirectly,  to  invalidate  the  fundamental  princi- 
ples of  Natural  Theism. 

(i.)  We  commence  with  the  Idealistic  School^  of  which  John  Stu- 
art Mill  must  be  regarded  as  the  ablest  living  representative. 

The  doctrine  of  this  school  is  that  all  our  knowledge  is  nec- 
essarily confined  to  mental  phenomena ;  that  is,  "  to  feelings  or 
states  of  consciousness,"  and  "  the  succession  and  co-existence, 
the  likeness  and  unlikeness  between  these  feelings  or  states  of 
consciousness."^  All  our  general  notions,  all  our  abstract 
ideas,  are  generated  out  of  these  feelings'^  by  "  inseparable  asso- 
ciation'^ which  registers  their  inter-relations  of  recurrence,  co- 
existence, and  resemblance.  The  results  of  this  inseparable 
association  constitute  at  once  the  sum  total  and  the  absolute 
limit  of  all  possible  cognition. 

'  J.  S.  Mill,  '*  Logic,"  vol.  i.  p.  83  (English  edition). 

"^  In  the  language  of  Mill,  every  thing  of  which  we  are  conscious  is  called 
"  feeling."  "  Feeling,  in  the  proper  sense  of  the  term,  is  a  genus  of  which 
Sensation,  Emotion,  and  Thought  are  the  subordinate  species." — "  Logic," 
bk.  i.  ch.  iii.  §  3. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


195 


It  is  admitted  by  Mill  that  one  apparent  element  in  this  to- 
tal result  is  the  general  conviction  that  our  own  existence  is 
really  distinct  from  the  external  world,  and  that  the  personal  ego 
has  an  essential  identity  distinct  from  the  fleeting  phenomena 
of  sensation.  But  this  persuasion  is  treated  by  him  as  a  mere 
illusion — a  leap  beyond  the  original  datum  for  which  we  have 
no  authority.  Of  a  real  substance  or  substratum  called  Mind, 
of  a  real  substance  or  substratum  called  Matter,  underlying  the 
series  of  feelings — "  the  thread  of  consciousness  " — we  do  know 
and  can  know  nothing ;  and  in  affirming  the  existence  of  such 
substrata  we  are  making  a  supposition  we  can  not  possibly 
verify.  The  ultimate  datum  of  speculative  philosophy  is  not 
"  I  thifik,^^  but  simply  "  Thoughts  or  feeliftgs  are^  The  belief 
in  a  permanent  subject  or  substance,  called  matter,  as  the 
ground  and  plexus  of  physical  phenomena,  and  of  a  permanent 
subject  or  substance,  called  mind,  as  the  ground  and  plexus  of 
mental  phenomena,  is  not  a  primitive  and  original  intuition  of 
reason.  It  is  simply  through  the  action  of  the  principle  of  as- 
sociation among  the  ultimate  phenomena,  called  feelings,  that 
this  (erroneous)  separation  of  the  phenomena  into  two  orders 
or  aggregates — one  called  mind  or  self;  the  other  matter,  or 
not  self — takes  place ;  and  without  this  curdling  or  associating 
process  no  such  notion  or  belief  could  have  been  generated. 
"  The  principle  of  substance,"  as  an  ultimate  law  of  thought,  is, 
therefore,  to  be  regarded  as  a  transcendental  dream. 

But  now  that  the  notion  of  mind  or  self,  and  of  matter  or 
not  self  do  exist  as  common  convictions  of  our  race,  what  is 
philosophy  to  make  of  them  ?  After  a  great  many  qualifications 
and  explanations,  Mr.  Mill  has,  in  his  "  Logic,"  summed  up  his 
doctrine  of  Constructive  Idealism  in  the  following  words :  "  As 
body  is  the  mysterious  something  which  excites  the  mind  to  feel, 
so  mind  is  the  mysterious  something  which  feels  and  thinks."^ 
But  what  is  this  "mysterious  something?"  Is  it  a  reality,  an 
entity,  a  subject ;  or  is  it  a  shadow,  an  illusion,  a  dream?  In 
his  "  Examination  of  Sir  Wm.  Hamilton's  Philosophy,"  where, 
^  '♦  Logic,"  bk.  i.  ch.  iii.  §  8. 


196  CHItlSTIANITY  AND 

it  may  be  presumed,  we  have  his  matiirest  opinions,  Mr.  Mill, 
in  still  more  abstract  and  idealistic  phraseology,  attempts  an 
answer.  Here  he  defines  matter  as  "  a  permanent  possibility 
of  sensation^''^  2ivA  mind  as  ^^  a  permanent  possibility  of feeBig."'^ 
And  "the  belief  in  these  permanent  possibilities,"  he  assures 
us,  "  includes  all  that  is  essential  or  characteristic  in  the  belief 
in  substance."^  "If  I  am  asked,"  says  he,  "whether  I  believe 
in  matter,  I  ask  whether  the  questioner  accepts  this  definition 
of  it.  If  he  does,  I  believe  in  matter :  and  so  do  all  Berkeleians. 
In  any  other  sense  than  this,  I  do  not.  But  I  affirm  with  con- 
fidence that  this  conception  of  matter  includes  the  whole 
meaning  attached  to  it  by  the  common  world,  apart  from  philo- 
sophical, and  sometimes  from  theological  theories.  The  reli- 
ance of  mankind  on  the  real  existence  of  visible  and  tangible 
objects,  means  reliance  on  the  reality  and  permanence  of  pos- 
sibilities of  visual  and  tactual  sensations,  when  no  sensations 
are  actually  experienced."*  "  Sensations,"  however,  let  it  be 
borne  in  mind,  are  but  a  subordinate  species  of  the  genus  feel- 
ing.^ They  are  "states  of  consciousness" — phenomena  of 
mind,  not  of  matter  j  and  we  are  still  within  the  impassable 
boundary  of  ideal  phenomena ;  we  have  yet  no  cognition  of  an 
external  world.  The  sole  cosmical  conception,  for  us,  is  still  a 
succession  of  sensations,  or  states  of  consciousness.  This  is 
the  one  phenomenon  which  we  can  not  transcend  in  knowl- 
edge, do  what  we  will ;  all  else  is  hypothesis  and  illusion.  The 
non-ego^  after  all,  then,  may  be  but  a  mode  in  which  the  mind 
represents  to  itself  the  possible  modifications  of  the  ego. 

And  now  that  matter,  as  a  real  existence,  has  disappeared 
under  Mr.  Mill's  analysis,  what  shall  be  said  of  mind  or  self? 
Is  there  any  permanent  subject  or  real  entity  underlying  the 
phenomena  of  feeling  ?  In  feeling,  is  there  a  personal  self  that 
feels,  thinks,  and  wills  ?  It  would  seem  not.  Mind,  as  well  as 
matter,  resolves  itself  into  a  "  series  of  feelings,"  varying  and 
fugitive  from  moment  to  moment,  in  a  sea  of  possibilities  of 

*  Examination  of  Sir  Wm.  Hamilton's  Philosophy,"  vol.  i.  p.  243. 
'  Ibid.,  vol.  i.  p.  253.  ^  Ibid.,  vol.  i.  p.  246. 

*  Ibid.,  vol.  i.  pp.  243,  244.  *  "  Logic,"  bk.  i.  ch.  iii.  §  3. 


GREEK  FHILOSOPHY.  igy 

feeling.  "  My  mind,"  says  Mill,  "  is  but  a  series  of  feelings, 
or,  as  it  has  been  called,  a  thread  of  consciousness,  however 
supplemented  by  believed  possibilities  of  consciousness,  which 
are  not,  though  they  might  be,  realized."^ 

The  ultimate  fact  of  the  phenomenal  world,  then,  in  the 
philosophy  of  Mill,  is  neither  matter  nor  mind,  but  feelings  or 
states  of  consciousness  associated  together  by  the  relations, 
amongst  themselves,  of  recurrence,  co-existence,  and  resem- 
blance. The  existence  of  self,  except  as  "  a  series  of  feel- 
ings;"  the  existence  of  any  thing  other  than  self,  except  as  a 
feigned  unknown  cause  of  sensation,  is  rigorously  denied.  Mr. 
Mill  does  not  content  himself  with  saying  that  we  are  ignorant 
of  the  nature  of  matter  and  mind,  but  he  asserts  we  are  igno- 
rant of  the  existence  of  matter  and  mind  as  real  entities. 

The  bearing  of  this  doctrine  of  Idealism  upon  Theism  and 
Theology  will  be  instantly  apparent  to  the  reader.  If  I  am  nec- 
essarily ignorant  of  the  existence  of  the  external  world,  and  of 
the  personal  ego^  or  real  self,  I  must  be  equally  ignorant  of  the 
existence  of  God.  If  one  is  a  mere  supposition,  an  illusion,  so 
the  other  must  be.  Mr.  Mill,  however,  is  one  of  those  courteous 
and  affable  writers  who  are  always  conscious,  as  it  were,  of  the 
presence  of  their  readers,  and  extremely  careful  not  to  shock 
their  feelings  or  prejudices  ;  besides,  he  has  too  much  con- 
scious self-respect  to  avow  himself  an  atheist.  As  a  specula- 
tive philosopher,  he  would  rather  regard  Theism  and  Theology 
as  "  open  questions,"  and  he  satisfies  himself  with  saying,  if  you 
believe  in  the  existence  of  God,  or  in  Christianity,  I  do  not  in- 
terfere with  you.  "  As  a  theory,"  he  tells  us  that  his  doctrine 
"  leaves  the  evidence  of  the  existence  of  God  exactly  as  it  was 
before.  Supposing  me  to  believe  that  the  Divine  mind  is  sim- 
ply the  series  of  the  Divine  thoughts  and  feelings  prolonged 
through  eternity,  that  would  be,  at  any  rate,  believing  God's  ex- 
istence to  be  as  real  as  my  own  [!].  And  as  for  evidence,  the 
argument  of  Paley's  '  Natural  Theology,'  or,  for  that  matter,  of 
his  '  Evidences  of  Christianity,'  would  stand  exactly  as  it  does. 
*  "  Examination  of  Sir  Wm.  Hamilton's  Philosophy,"  vol.  i.  p.  254. 


■198  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

The  design  argument  is  drawn  from  the  analogies  of  human  ex- 
perience. From  the  relation  which  human  works  bear  to  hu- 
man thoughts  and  feelings,  it  infers  a  corresponding  relation 
between  works  more  or  less  similar,  but  superhuman,  and  su- 
perhuman thoughts  and  feelings.  If  it  prove  these,  nobody^ 
but  a  metaphysician  needs  care  whether  or  not  it  proves  a 
mysterious  substratum  for  them."^  The  argument  from  design, 
it  seems  to  us,  however,  would  have  no  validity  if  there  be  no 
external  world  offering  marks  of  design.  If  the  external  world 
is  only  a  mode  of  feeling,  a  series  of  mental  states,  then  our 
notion  of  the  Divine  Existence  may  be  only  "  an  association 
of  feelings  "  —  a  mode  of  Self.  And  if  we  have  no  positive 
knowledge  of  a  real  self  as  existing,  and  God's  existence  is  no 
more  "  real  than  our  own,"  then  the  Divine  existence  stands  on 
a  very  dubious  and  uncertain  foundation.  It  can  have  no  very 
secure  hold  upon  the  human  mind,  and  certainly  has  no  claim 
to  be  regarded  as  a  fundamental  and  necessary  belief  That 
it  has  a  very  precarious  hold  upon  the  mind  of  Mr.  Mill,  is  evi- 
dent from  the  following  passage  in  his  article  on  ^^ Later  Specu- 
lations  of  A.  Cointe.''^'^  "We  venture  to  think  that  a  religion 
may  exist  without  a  belief  in  a  God,  and  that  a  religion  without 
a  God  may  be,  even  to  Christians,  an  instructive  and  profitable 
object  of  contemplation." 

And  now  let  us  close  Mr.  Mill's  book,  and,  introverting  our 
mental  gaze,  interrogate  consciousness^  the  verdict  of  which,  even 
Mr.  Mill  assures  us,  is  admitted  on  all  hands  to  be  a  decision 
without  appeal.^ 

I.  We  have  an  ineradicable,  and,  as  it  would  seem,  an  in- 
tuitive faith  in  the  real  existence  of  an  external  world  distinct 
from  our  sensations,  and  also  of  a  personal  self,  which  we  call 
"  I,"  "  myself,"  as  distinct  from  "  my  sensations,"  and  "  my 
feelings."  We  find,  also,  that  this  is  confessedly  the  common 
belief  of  mankind.     There  have  been  a  few  philosophers  who 

'  *'  Examination  of  Sir  Wm.  Hamilton's  Philosophy,"  vol.  i.  p.  259. 

^  Westminster  Review,  July,  1835  (American  edition),  p.  3. 

^  "Examination  of  Sir  Wm.  Hamilton's  Philosophy,"  vol.  i.  p.  161. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  199 

have  affected  to  treat  this  belief  as  a  "  mere  prejudice,"  an 
"  ilkision  ;"  but  they  have  never  been  able,  practically,  so  to 
regard  and  treat  it.  Their  language,  just  as  plainly  as  the  lan- 
guage of  the  common  people,  betrays  their  instinctive  faith  in 
an  outer  world,  and  proves  their  utter  inability  to  emancipate 
themselves  from  this  "prejudice,"  if  such  it  may  please  them  to 
call  it.  In  view  of  this  acknowledged  fact,  we  ask — Does  the 
term  ^'■permanent  possibility  of  sensations "  exhaust  all  that  is 
contained  in  this  conception  of  an  external  world  ?  This  even- 
ing I  remember  that  at  noonday  I  beheld  the  sun,  and  experi- 
enced a  sensation  of  warmth  whilst  exposing  myself  to  his  rays ; 
and  I  expect  that  to-morrow,  under  the  same  conditions,  I  shall 
experience  the  same  sensations.  I  now  reme7nber  that  last 
evening  I  extinguished  my  light  and  attempted  to  leave  my 
study,  but,  coming  in  contact  with  the  closed  door,  experienced 
a  sense  of  resistance  to  my  muscular  effort,  by  a  solid  and  ex- 
tended body  exterior  to  myself ;  and  I  expect  that  this  evening, 
under  the  same  Circumstances,  I  shall  experience  the  same 
sensations.  Now,  does  a  belief  in  "  a  permanent  possibility  of 
sensations  "  explain  all  these  experiences  ?  does  it  account  for 
that  immediate  knowledge  of  an  external  object  which  I  had 
on  looking  at  the  sun,  or  that  presentative  knowledge  of  resist- 
ance and  extension,  and  of  an  extended,  resisting  substance,  I  had 
when  in  contact  with  the  door  of  my  study  ?  Mr.  Mill  very 
confidently  affirms  that  this  belief  includes  all ;  and  this  phrase 
expresses  all  the  meaning  attached  to  extended  "  matter  "  and 
resisting  "  substance  "  by  the  common  world. ^  We  as  confi- 
dently affirm  that  it  does  no  such  thing ;  and  as  "  the  common 
world  "  must  be  supposed  to  understand  the  language  of  con- 
sciousness as  well  as  the  philosopher,  we  are  perfectly  willing 
to  leave  the  decision  of  that  question  to  the  common  conscious- 
ness of  our  race.  If  all  men  do  not  believe  in  a  permanent 
reality — a  substance  which  is  external  to  themselves,  a  sub- 
stance which  offers  resistance  to  their  muscular  effort,  and 
which  produces  in  them  the  sensations  of  solidity,  extension, 
^  "  Examination  of  Sir  Wm.  Hamilton's  Philosophy,"  vol.  i.  p.  243. 


200  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

resistance,  etc. — they  believe  nothing  and  know  nothing  at  all 
about  the  matter. 

Still  less  does  the  phrase  ^^  a  permanent  possibility  of  feelings" 
exhaust  all  our  conception  of  a  personal  sel£  Recurring  to  the 
experiences  of  yesterday,  I  remember  the  feelings  I  experienced 
on  beholding  the  sun,  and  also  on  pressing  against  the  closed 
door,  and  I  confidently  expect  the  recurrence,  under  the  same 
circumstances,  of  the  same  feelings.  Does  the  belief  in  "  a 
permanent  possibility  of  feelings  "  explain  the  act  of  memory 
by  which  I  recall  the  past  event,  and  the  act  of  prevision  by 
which  I  anticipate  the  recurrence  of  the  like  experience  in  the 
future  ?  Who  or  what  is  the  "  I "  that  remembers  and  the  "  I  " 
that  anticipates  ?  The  "  ego,"  the  personal  mind,  is,  according 
to  Mill,  a  mere  "  series  of  feelings,"  or,  more  correctly,  a  flash 
of  "/r^i-^;?/ feelings  "  on  "a  background  of  possibilities  of  pres- 
ent feelings."*  If,  then,  there  be  no  permanent  substance  or 
reality  which  is  the  subject  of  the  present  feeling,  which  re- 
ceives and  retains  the  impress  of  the  past  feeling,  and  which 
anticipates  the  recurrence  of  like  feelings  in  the  future,  how  can 
the  past  be  recalled,  how  distinguished  from  the  present  t  and 
how,  without  a  knowledge  of  the  past  as  distinguished  from  the 
present,  can  the  future  be  forecast  ?  Mr.  Mill  feels  the  press- 
ure of  this  difficulty,  and  frankly  acknowledges  it.  He  admits 
that,  on  the  hypothesis  that  mind  is  simply  "  a  series  of  feel- 
ings,^' the  phenomena  of  memory  and  expectation  are  "inex- 
plicable "  and  "incomprehensible."'*  He  is,  therefore,  under 
the  necessity  of  completing  his  definition  of  mind  by  adding 
that  it  is  a  series  of  feelings  which  "  is  aware  of  itself  as  a  series;" 
and,  still  further,  of  supplementing  this  definition  by  the  conjec- 
ture that  "  something  which  has  ceased  to  exists  or  is  not  yet  in  ex- 
istence^ can  stilly  in  a  manner^  be  present  "^  Now  he  who  can  un- 
derstand how  a  series  of  feelings  can  flow  on  in  time,  and  from 
moment  to  moment  drop  out  of  the  present  into  non-existence, 
and  yet  be  present  and  conscious  of  itself  as  a  series,  may  be  ac- 

*  "  Exam,  of  Hamilton,"  vol.  i.  p.  260.  "^  Ibid,  p.  262. 

.     ^  Ibid. 


GREEK  PHILOSOrHY.  20I 

corded  the  honor  of  understanding  Mr.  Mill's  definition  of 
mind  or  self,  and  may  be  permitted  to  rank  himself  as  a  dis- 
tinguished disciple  of  the  Idealist  school ;  for  ourselves,  we  ac- 
knowledge we  are  destitute  of  the  capacity  to  do  the  one,  and 
of  all  ambition  to  be  the  other.  And  he  who  can  conceive  how 
the  past  feeling  of  yesterday  and  the  possible  feeling  of  to-mor- 
row can  be  in  any  manner  present  to-day ;  or,  in  other  words, 
how  any  thing  which  has  ceased  to  exist,  or  which  never  had  an 
existence,  can  now  exist,  may  be  permitted  to  believe  that  a 
thmg  can  be  and  not  be  at  the  same  moment,  that  a  part  is 
greater  than  the  whole,  and  that  two  and  two  make  five  ;  but 
we  are  not  ashamed  to  confess  our  inability  to  believe  a  contra- 
diction. To  our  understanding,  "possibilities  of  feeling  "  are 
not  actualities.  They  may  or  may  not  be  realized,  and  until 
realized  in  consciousness,  they  have  na  real  being.  If  there  be 
no  other  background  of  mental  phenomena  save  mere  "  possi- 
bilities of  feeling,"  then  present  feelings  are  the  only  existences, 
the  only  reality,  and  a  loss  of  immediate  consciousness,  as  in 
narcosis  and  coma,  is  the  loss  of  all  personality,  all  self-hood, 
and  of  all  real  being. 

2.  What,  then,  is  .the  verdict  of  consciousness  as  to  the  exist- 
ence of  a  permanent  substance,  an  abiding  existence  which  is 
the  subject  of  all  the  varying  phenomena  ?  Of  what  are  we 
really  conscious  when  we  say  "  I  think,"  "  I  feel,"  "  I  will  ?"  Are 
we  simply  conscious  of  thought,  feeling,  and  volition,  or  of  a 
self,  a  person,  which  thinks,  feels,  and  wills?  The  man  who 
honestly  and  unreservedly  accepts  the  testimony  of  conscious- 
ness in  all  its  integrity  must  answer  at  once,  we  'have  an  hnme- 
diate  conscioitsfiess,  not  merely  of  the  phe7iomena  of  mind,  but  of  a 
personal  self  as  passively  or  actively  related  to  the  phenomena.  We 
are  conscious  not  merely  of  the  act  of  volition,  but  of  a  self,  a 
power,  producing  the  volition.  We  are  conscious  not  merely 
of  feeling,  but  of  a  being  who  is  the  subject  of  the  feeling.  We 
are  conscious  not  simply  of  thought,  but  of  a  real  entity  that 
thinks.  "  It  is  clearly  a  flat  contradiction  to  maintain  that  I 
am  not  immediately  conscious  of  myself,  but  only  of  my  sensa- 


1 


202  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

tions  or  volitions.  Who,  then,  is  that  /  that  is  conscious,  and 
how  can  I  be  conscious  of  such  states  as  mi7ie  ^"^ 

The  testimony  of  consciousness,  then,  is  indubitable  that  we 
have  a  direct,  immediate  cognition  of  self—1  know  myself  as  a 
distinctly  existing  being.  This  permanent  self,  to  which  I  refer 
the  earlier  and  later  stages  of  consciousness,  the  past  as  well  as 
the  present  feeling,  and  which  I  know  abides  the  same  under 
all  phenomenal  changes,  constitutes  my  personal  identity.  It 
is  this  abiding  self  which  unites  the  past  and  the  present,  and, 
from  the  present  stretches  onward  to  the  future.  We  know 
self  immediately,  as  existing,  as  in  active  operation,  and  as  hav- 
ing permanence — or,  in  other  words,  as  a  ''^  substance^  This 
one  immediately  presented  substance,  myself,  may  be  regarded 
as  furnishing  a  positive  basis  for  that  other  notion  of  substance, 
which  is  representatively  thought,  as  the  subject  of  all  sensible 
qualities. 

3.  We  may  now  inquire  what  is  the  testimony  of  conscious- 
ness as  to  the  existence  of  the  extra-mental  world  ?  Are  w^e 
conscious  of  perceiving  external  objects  immediately  and  in 
themselves,  or  only  mediately  through  some  vicarious  image  or 
representative  idea  to  which  we  fictitiously  ascribe  an  objective 
reality? 

The  answer  of  common  sense  is  that  we  are  immediately 
conscious,  in  perception,  of  an  ego  and  a  non-ego  known  together, 
and  known  in  contrast  to  each  other ;  we  are  conscious  of  a 
perceiving  subject,  and  of  an  external  reality,  as  the  object  per- 
ceived.'* To  state  this  doctrine  of  natural  realism  still  more  ex- 
plicitly we  add,  that  we  are  conscious  of  the  immediate  per- 
ception of  certain  essential  attributes  of  matter  objectively  ex- 
isting. Of  these  primary  qualities,  which  are  immediately  per- 
ceived as  real  and  objectively  existing,  we  mention  extension  in 
space  and  resistance  to  muscular  effort,  with  which  is  indissolu- 
bly  associated  the  idea  of  externality.  It  is  true  that  extension 
and  resistance  are  only  qualities,  but  it  is  equally  true  that  they 

*  Mansel,  "  Prolegomena  Logica,"  p.  122,  and  note  E,  p.  281. 
=*  Hamilton,  "  Lectures,"  vol.  1.  p.  288. 


OBEEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


203 


are  qualities  of  something,  and  of  something  which  is  exter- 
nal to  ourselves.  Let  any  one  attempt  to  conceive  of  extension 
without  something  which  is  extended,  or  of  resistance  apart  from 
something  which  offers  resistance,  and  he  will  be  convinced  that 
we  can  never  know  qualities  without  knowing  substance,  just  as 
we  can  not  know  substance  without  knowing  qualities.  This, 
indeed,  is  admitted  by  Mr.  Mill.^  And  if  this  be  admitted,  it 
must  certainly  be  absurd  to  speak  of  substance  as  something 
"  unknown."  Substance  is  known  just  as  much  as  quality  is 
known,  no  less  and  no  more. 

We  remark,  in  conclusion,  that  if  the  testimony  of  conscious- 
ness is  not  accepted  in  all  its  integrity,  we  are  necessarily  in- 
volved in  the  Nihilism  of  Hume  and  Fichte ;  the  phenomena 
of  mind  and  matter  are,  on  analysis,  resolved  into  an  absolute 
nothingness — "a  play  of  phantasms  in  a  void."^ 

(ii.)  We  turn,  secondly,  to  the  Materialistic  School  2iS  repre- 
sented by  Aug.  Comte. 

The  doctrine  of  this  school  is  that  all  knowledge  is  limited 
to  material  phenomena — that  is,  to  appearances  perceptible  to 
sense.  We  do  not  know  the  essence  of  any  object,  nor  the  real 
mode  of  procedure  of  any  event,  but  simply  its  relations  to  other 
events,  as  similar  or  dissimilar,  co-existent  or  successive.  These 
relations  are  constant;  under  the  same  conditions,  they  are 
always  the  same.  The  constant  resemblances  which  link  phe- 
nomena together,  and  the  constant  sequences  which  unite  them, 
as  antecedent  and  consequent,  are  termed  laws.  The  laws  of 
phenomena  are  all  we  know  respecting  them.  Their  essential 
nature  and  their  ultimate  causes,  efficient  ox  finals  are  unknown 
and  inscrutable  to  us.^ 

It  is  not  our  intention  to  review  the  system  of  philosophy 
propounded  by  Aug.  Comte  ;  we  are  now  chiefly  concerned 
with  his  denial  of  all  causation. 

^  "  Logic,"  bk.  i.  ch.  iii.  §  6. 
^  Masson,  "  Recent  British  Philos.,"  p.  62. 

^  See  art.  "  Positive  Philos.  of  A.  Comte,"  Westminster  Review,  April,  1865, 
p.  162,  Am.  ed. 


204  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

I.  As  to  Efficient  Causes. — Had  Comte  contented  himself  with 
the  assertion  that  causes  lie  beyond  the  field  of  sensible  ob- 
servation, and  that  inductive  science  can  not  carry  us  beyond 
the  relations  of  co-existence  and  succession  among  phenomena, 
he  would  have  stated  an  important  truth,  but  certainly  not  a 
new  truth.  It  had  already  been  announced  by  distinguished 
mental  philosophers,  as,  for  example,  M.  de  Biran  and  Victor 
Cousin.^  The  senses  give  us  only  the  succession  of  one  phe- 
nomenon to  another.  I  hold  a  piece  of  wax  to  the  fire  and  it 
melts.  Here  my  senses  inform  me  of  two  successive  phenomena 
— the  proximity  of  fire  and  the  melting  of  wax.  It  is  now  agreed 
among  all  schools  of  philosophy  that  this  is  all  the  knowledge 
the  senses  can  possibly  supply.  The  observation  of  a  great 
number  of  like  cases  assures  us  that  this  relation  is  uniform. 
The  highest  scientific  generalization  does  not  carry  us  one  step 
beyond  this  fact.  Induction,  therefore,  gives  us  no  access  to 
causes  beyond  phenomena.  Still,  this  does  not  justify  Comte 
in  the  assertion  that  causes  are  to  us  absolutely  unknowji.  The 
question  would  still  arise  whether  we  have  not  some  faculty  of 
knowledge,  distinct  from  sensation,  which  is  adequate  to  fur- 
nish a  valid  cognition  of  cause.  It  does  not  by  any  means  fol- 
low that,  because  the  idea  of  causation  is  not  given  as  a  "  phys- 
ical quaesitum  "  at  the  end  of  a  process  of  scientific  generaliza- 
tion, it  should  not  be  a  "  metaphysical  datum  "  posited  at  the 
very  beginning  of  scientific  inquiry,  as  the  indispensable  con- 
dition of  our  being  able  to  cognize  phenomena  at  all,  and  as  the 
law  under  which  all  thought,  and  all  conception  of  the  system 
of  nature,  is  alone  possible. 

Now  we  afiirm  that  the  human  mind  has  just  as  direct,  im- 
mediate, and  positive  knowledge  of  cause  as  it  has  of  effect. 
The  idea  of  cause,  the  intuition  oipower^  is  given  in  the  imme- 
diate consciousness  of  mind  as  deferminifig  its  own  operations. 
Our  first,  and,  in  fact,  our  only  presentation  of  power  or  cause, 
is  that  of  self  as  willing.     In  every  act  of  volition  I  am  fully 

^  "  It  is  now  universally  admitted  that  we  have  no  perception  of  the  causal 
nexus  in  the  material  world." — Hamilton,  "  Discussions,"  p.  522. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  205 

conscious  that  it  is  in  my  power  to  form  a  resolution  or  to  re- 
frain from  it,  to  determine  on  this  course  of  action  or  that ;  and 
this  constitutes  the  immediate  presentative  knowledge  of  pow- 
er.^ The  will  is  a  power,  a  power  in  action,  a  productive  power, 
and,  consequently,  a  cause.  This  doctrine  is  stated  with  re- 
markable clearness  and  accuracy  by  Cousin  :  "  If  we  seek  the 
notion  of  cause  in  the  action  of  one  ball  upon  another,  as  was 
previously  done  by  Hume,  or  in  the  action  of  the  hand  upon 
the  ball,  or  the  primary  muscles  upon  the  extremities,  or  even 
in  the  action  of  the  will  upon  the  muscles,  as  was  done  by  M. 
Maine  de  Biran,  we  shall  find  it  in  none  of  these  cases,  not  even 
in  the  last ;  for  it  is  possible  there  should  be  a  paralysis  of  the 
muscles  which  deprives  the  will  of  power  over  them,  makes 
it  unproductive,  incapable  of  being  a  cause,  and,  consequently, 
of  suggesting  the  notion  of  one.  But  what  no  paralysis  can 
prevent  is  the  action  of  the  will  upon  itself,  the  production  of  a 
resolution  ;  that  is  to  say,  the  act  of  causation  entirely  mental, 
the  primitive  type  of  all  causality,  of  which  all  external,  move- 
ments ....  are  only  symbols  more  or  less  imperfect.  The 
first  cause  for  us,  is,  therefore,  the  will,  of  which  the  first  effect 
is  volition.  This  is  at  once  the  highest  and  the  purest  source 
of  the  notion  of  cause,  which  thus  becomes  identical  with  that 
of  personality.  And  it  is  the  taking  possession,  so  to  speak, 
of  the  cause,  as  revealed  in  will  and  personality,  which  is  the 
condition  for  us  of  the  ulterior  or  simultaneous  conception  of 
external,  impersonal  causes."' 

Thus  much  for  the  origin  of  the  idea  of  cause.  We  have 
the  same  direct  intuitive  knowledge  of  cause  that  we  have  of 
effect  j  but  we  have  not  yet  rendered  a  full  and  adequate  ac- 

^ "  It  is  our  immediate  consciousness  of  effort^  when  we  exert  force  to  put  mat- 
ter in  motion,  or  to  oppose  and  neutralize  force,  which  gives  us  this  internal 
conviction  of  power  and  causation,  so  far  as  it  refers  to  the  material  world, 
and  compels  us  to  believe  that  whenever  we  see  material  objects  put  in  mo- 
tion from  a  state  of  rest,  or  deflected  from  their  rectilinear  paths  and  changed 
in  their  velocities  if  already  in  motion,  it  is  in  consequence  of  such  an  effort 
somehow  exerted." — Herschel's  "  Outlines  of  Astronomy,"  p.  234 ;  see  Han- 
sel's "  Prolegomena,"  p.  133. 

^  "  Philosophical  Fragments,"  Preface  to  first  edition. 


2o6  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

count  of  the  principle  of  causality.  We  have  simply  attained 
the  notion  of  our  personal  causality,  and  we  can  not  arbitrarily 
substitute  our  personal  causality  for  all  the  causes  of  the  uni- 
verse, and  erect  our  own  experience  as  a  law  of  the  entire  uni- 
verse. We  have,  however,  already  seen  (Chap.  V.)  that  the 
belief  in  exterior  causation  is  necessary  and  universal.  When  a 
change  takes  place,  when  a  new  phenomenon  presents  itself  to 
our  senses,  we  can  not  avoid  the  conviction  that  it  must  have  a 
cause.  We  can  not  even  express  in  language  the  relations  of 
phenomena  in  time  and  space,  without  speaking  of  causes.  And 
there  is  not  a  rational  being  on  the  face  of  the  globe — a  child, 
a  savage,  or  a  philosopher  —  who  does  not  instinctively  and 
spontaneously  affirm  that  every  movement,  every  change,  every 
new  existence,  must  have  a  cause.  Now  what  account  can 
philosophy  render  of  this  universal  belief?  One  answer,  and 
only  one,  is  possible.  The  reason  of  man  (that  power  of  which 
Comte  takes  no  account)  is  in  fixed  and  changeless  relation  to 
the  principle  of  causation,  just  as  sense  is  in  fixed  and  change- 
less relation  to  exterior  phenomena,  so  that  we  can  not  know 
the  external  world,  can  not  think  or  speak  of  phenomenal  ex- 
istence, except  as  effects.  In  the  expressive  and  forcible  lan- 
guage of  Jas.  Martineau  :  "  By  an  irresistible  law  of  thought  all 
phenomena  present  themselves  to  us  as  the  expression  of  power,  and 
refer  us  to  a  causal  ground  whence  they  issue.  This  dynamic 
source  we  neither  see,  nor  hear,  nor  feel ;  it  is  given  in  thought, 
supplied  by  the  spontaneous  activity  of  mind  as  the  correlative 
prefix  to  the  phenomena  observed."*  Unless,  then,  we  are  pre- 
pared to  deny  the  validity  of  all  our  rational  intuitions,  we  can 
not  avoid  accepting  "  this  subjective  postulate  as  a  valid  law 
for  objective  nature."  If  the  intuitions  of  our  reason  are  pro- 
nounced deceptive  and  mendacious,  so  also  must  the  intuitions 
of  the  senses  be  pronounced  illusory  and  false.  Our  whole  in- 
tellectual constitution  is  built  up  on  false  and  erroneous  prin- 
ciples, and  all  knowledge  of  whatever  kind  must  perish  by  "the 
contagion  of  uncertainty." 

'  "  Essays,"  p.  47. 


GREEK  PIIILO SOPHY.  207 

Comte,  however,  is  determined  to  treat  the  idea  of  causation 
as  an  illusion,  whether  under  its  psychological  form,  as  7£////, 
or  under  its  scientific  form,  as  force.  He  feels  that  Theology 
is  inevitable  if  we  permit  the  inquiry  into  causes  ;'  and  he  is 
more  anxious  ih^t  theology  should  perish  than  that  truth  should 
prevail.  The  human  will  must,  therefore,  be  robbed  of  all  sem- 
blance of  freedom,  lest  it  should  suggest  the  idea  of  a  Supreme 
Will  governing  nature  ;  and  human  action,  like  all  other  phe- 
nomena, must  be  reduced  to  uniform  and  necessary  law.  All 
feelings,  ideas,  and  principles  guaranteed  to  us  by  conscious- 
ness are  to  be  cast  out  of  the  account.  Psychology,  resting  on 
self- observation,  is  pronounced  a  delusion.  The  immediate 
consciousness  of  freedom  is  a  dream.  Such  a  procedure,  to 
say  the  least  of  it,  is  highly  unphilosophical ;  to  say  the  truth 
about  it,  it  is  obviously  dishonest.  Every  fact  of  human  na- 
ture, just  as  much  as  every  fact  of  physical  nature,  must  be  ac- 
cepted in  all  its  integrity,  or  all  must  be  alike  rejected.  The 
phenomena  of  mind  can  no  more  be  disregarded  than  the  phe- 
nomena of  matter.  Rational  intuitions,  necessary  and  univer- 
sal beliefs,  can  no  more  be  ignored  than  the  uniform  facts  of 
sense  -  perception,  without  rendering  a  system  of  knowledge 
necessarily  incomplete,  and  a  system  of  truth  utterly  impossi- 
ble. Every  one  truth  is  connected  with  every  other  truth  in 
the  universe.  And  yet  Comte  demands  that  a  large  class  of 
facts,  the  most  immediate  and  direct  of  all  our  cognitions,  shall 
be  rejected  because  they  are  not  in  harmony  with  the  funda- 
mental assumption  of  the  positive  philosophy  that  all  knowl- 
edge is  confined  to  phenomena  perceptible  to  sense.  Now  it  were 
just  as  easy  to  cast  the  Alps  nito  the  Mediterranean  as  to  ob- 
literate from  the  human  intelligence  the  primary  cognitions  of 
immediate  consciousness,  or  to  relegate  the  human  reason  from 
the  necessary  laws  of  thought.  Comte  himself  can  not  eman- 
cipate his  own  mind  from  a  belief  in  the  validity  of  the  testi- 

'  "  The  inevitable  tendency  of  our  intelligence  is  towards  a  philosophy  rad- 
ically theological,  so  often  as  we  seek  to  penetrate,  on  whatever  pretext,  into 
the  intimate  nature  of  phenomena  "  (vol.  iv.  p.  664). 


2o8  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

mony  of  consciousness.  How  can  he  know  himself  as  distinct 
from  nature,  as  a  living  person,  as  the  same  being  he  was  ten 
years  ago,  or  even  yesterday,  except  by  an  appeal  to  conscious- 
ness ?  Despite  his  earnestly-avowed  opinions  as  to  the  inutility 
and  fallaciousness  of  all  psychological  inquiries,  he  is  com- 
pelled to  admit  that  "  the  phenomena  of  life  "  are  "  know?i  by 
immediate  conscious Jiess."^  Now  the  knowledge  of  our  personal 
freedom  rests  on  precisely  the  same  grounds  as  the  knowledge 
of  our  personal  existence.  The  same  "  immediate  conscious- 
ness "  which  attests  that  I  exist,  attests  also,  with  equal  dis- 
tinctness and  directness,  that  I  am  self-determined  and  free. 

In  common  with  most  atheistical  writers,  Comte  is  involved 
in  the  fatal  contradiction  of  at  one  time  assuming,  and  at  an- 
other of  denying,  the  freedom  of  the  will,  to  serve  the  exigencies 
of  his  theory.  To  prove  that  the  order  of  the  universe  can  not 
be  the  product  of  a  Supreme  Intelligence,  he  assumes  that  the 
products  of  mind  must  be  characterized  by  freedom  and  variety 
— the  phenomena  of  mind  must  not  be  subject  to  uniform  and 
necessary  laws  ;  and  inasmuch  as  the  phenomena  presented 
by  external  nature  are  subject  to  uniform  and  changeless  laws, 
they  can  not  be  the  product  of  mind.  "Look  at  the  whole 
frame  of  things,"  says  he  ;  "  how  can  it  be  the  product  of  mind 
— of  a  supernatural  Will  ?  Is  it  not  subject  to  regular  laws, 
and  do  we  not  actually  obtain  prevision  of  its  phenomena  ?  If 
it  were  the  product  of  mind,  its  order  would  be  variable  and 
free."  Here,  then,  it  is  admitted  that  freedom  is  an  essential 
characteristic  of  mi?id.  And  this  admission  is  no  doubt  a  thought- 
less, unconscious  betrayal  of  the  innate  belief  of  all  minds  in 
the  freedom  of  the  will.  But  when  Comte  comes  to  deal  with 
this  freedom  as  an  objective  question  of  philosophy,  when  he 
directs  his  attention  to  the  only  will  of  which  we  have  a  direct 
and  immediate  knowledge,  he  denies  freedom  and  variety,  and 
asserts  in  the  most  arbitrary  manner  that  the  movements  of  the 
mind,  like  all  the  phenomena  of  nature,  must  be  subject  to 
uniform,  changeless,  and  necessaiy  laws.  And  if  we  have  not 
'  "  Positive  Philos.,"vol.  ii.  p.  648. 


GREEK  rniLOSOPEY. 


209 


yet  been  able  to  reduce  the  movements  of  mind,  like  the  move- 
ments of  the  planets,  to  statistics,  and  have  not  already  obtain- 
ed accurate  prevision  of  its  successions  or  sequences  as  we 
have  of  physical  phenomena,  it  is  simply  the  consequence  of  our 
inattention  to,  or  ignorance  of,  all  the  facts.  We  answer,  there 
are  no  facts  so  directly  and  intuitively  known  as  the  facts  of 
consciousness;  and,  therefore,  an  argument  based  upon  our 
supposed  ignorance  of  these  facts  is  not  likely  to  have  much 
weight  against  our  immediate  consciousness  of  personal  free- 
dom. There  is  not  any  thing  we  know  so  immediately,  so  cer- 
tainly, so  positively,  as  this  fact — we  are  free. 

The  word  "  force,"  representing  as  it  does  a  subtile  mental 
conception,  and  not  a  phenomenon  of  sense,  must  also  be  ban- 
ished from  the  domains  of  Positive  Science  as  an  intruder,  lest 
its  presence  should  lend  any  countenance  to  the  idea  of  causa- 
tion. "Forces  in  mechanics  are  only  7novements,  produced,  or 
tending  to  be  produced."  In  order  to  "  cancel  altogether  the 
old  metaphysical  notion  of  force,"  another  form  of  expression 
is  demanded.  It  is  claimed  that  all  we  do  know  or  can  possi- 
bly know  is  the  successions  of  phenomena  in  time.  What, 
then,  is  the  term  which  henceforth,  in  our  dynamics,  shall  take 
the  place  of  "force  ?"  Is  it  "Time-succession  ?"  Then  let  any 
one  attempt  to  express  the  various  forms  and  intensities  of 
movement  and  change  presented  to  the  senses  (as  e.g.,  the 
phenomena  of  heat,  electricity,  galvanism,  magnetism,  muscu- 
lar and  nervous  action,  etc.)  in  terms  of  Time-succession,  and 
he  will  at  once  become  conscious  of  the  utter  hopelessness 
of  physics,  without  the  hyperphysical  idea  of  force,  to  render 
itself  intelligible.^  What  account  can  be  rendered  of  planetary 
motion  if  the  terms  "  centrifugal  force  "  and  "  centripetal  force  " 
are  abandoned  ?  "  From  the  two  great  conditions  of  every 
Newtonian  solution,  viz.,  projectile  impulse  and  centripetal  ten- 
dency, eject  the  idea  oi  force ^  and  what  remains  ?  The  entire 
conception  is  simply  made  up  of  this,  and  has  not  the  faintest 

'  See  Grote's  "  Essay  on  Correlation  of  Physical  Forces,"  pp.  18-20 ;  and 
Martineau's  *'  Essays,"  p.  135. 

14 


2IO  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

existence  without  it.  It  is  useless  to  give  it  notice  to  quit,  and 
pretend  that  it  is  gone  when  you  have  only  put  a  new  name 
upon  the  door.  We  must  not  call  it  *  attraction,'  lest  there 
should  seem  to  be  a  power  within ;  we  are  to  speak  of  it  only 
as  *  gravitation,'  because  that  is  only  *  weight,'  which  is  noth- 
ing but  a  *  fact,'  as  if  it  were  not  a  fact  that  holds  a  power,  a 
true  dynamic  affair,  which  no  imagination  can  chop  into  inco- 
herent successions.^  Nor  is  the  evasion  more  successful  when 
we  try  the  phrase,  *  tendency  of  bodies  to  mutual  approach.' 
The  approach  itself  may  be  called  a  phenomenon  ;  but  the 
*  tendency'  is  no  phenomenon,  and  can  not  be  attributed  by 
us  to  the  bodies  without  regarding  them  as  the  residence  of 
force.  And  what  are  we  to  say  of  the  projectile  impulse  in  the 
case  of  the  planets  ?  Is  that  also  a  phenomenon  ?  Who  wit- 
nessed and  reported  it?  Is  it  not  evident  that  the  whole 
scheme  of  physical  astronomy  is  a  resolution  of  observed  facts 
into  dynamic  equivalents,  and  that  the  hypothesis  posits  for  its 
calculations  not  phenomena,  but  proper  forces  ?  Its  logic  is 
this  :  -^an  impulse  of  certain  intensity  were  given,  and  ?/"such 
and  such  mutual  attractions  were  constantly  present,  then  the 
sort  of  motions  which  we  observe  in  the  bodies  of  our  system 
would  follow.  So,  however,  they  also  would  if  willed  by  an 
Omnipotent  Intelligence.'"*  It  is  thus  clearly  evident  that 
human  science  is  unable  to  offer  any  explanation  of  the  exist- 
ing order  of  the  universe  except  in  terms  expressive  of  Power 
or  Force  ;  that,  in  fact,  all  explanations  are  utterly  unintel- 
ligible without  the  idea  of  causation.  The  language  of  uni- 
versal rational  intuition  is,  "  all  phenomena  are  the  expression 
of  power  j"  the  language  of  science  is,  "  every  law  implies  a 
force." 

It  is  furthermore  worthy  of  being  noted  that,  in  the  modern 
doctrine  of  the  Correlation  and  Conservation  of  Forces,  science 
is  inevitably  approaching  the  idea  that  all  kinds  of  force  are 

^  "  Gravity  is  a  real  power  of  whose  agency  we  have  daily  experience.'" — 
Herschel,  "  Outlines  of  Astronomy,"  p.  236. 
"^  Martineau's  "  Essays,"  p.  56. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  211 

but  forms  or  manifestations  of  some  one  central  force  issuing 
from  some  one  fountain-head  of  power.  Dr.  Carpenter,  perhaps 
the  greatest  living  physiologist,  teaches  that  "  the  form  of  force 
which  may  be  take?i  as  the  type  of  all  the  rest "  is  the  conscious- 
ness of  living  effort  in  volition.^  All  force,  then,  is  of  one  type, 
and  that  type  is  mind ;  in  its  last  analysis  external  causation 
may  be  resolved  into  Divine  energy.  Sir  John  Herschel  does 
not  hesitate  to  say  that  "  it  is  reasonable  to  regard  the  force  of 
gravitation  as  the  direct  or  indirect  result  of  a  consciousness 
or  will  exerted  somewhere,'"*  The  humble  Christian  may, 
therefore,  feel  himself  amply  justified  in  still  believing  that 
"power  belongs  to  God  ;"  that  it  is  through  the  Divine  energy 
"  all  things  are,  and  are  upheld  ;"  and  that  "  in  God  we  live, 
and  move,  and  have  our  being ;"  he  is  the  Great  First  Cause, 
the  Fountain-head  of  all  power. 

2.  As  to  Final  Causes — that  is,  reasons,  purposes,  or  ends 
for  which  things  exist — these,  we  are  told  by  Comte,  are  all 
"disproved"  by  Positive  Science,  which  rigidly  limits  us  to 
"  the  history  of  what  is^^  and  forbids  all  inquiry  into  reasons 
why  it  is.  The  question  whether  there  be  any  intelligent  pur- 
pose in  the  order  and  arrangement  of  the  universe,  is  not  a 
subject  of  scientific  inquiry  at  all ;  and  whenever  it  has  been 
permitted  to  obtrude  itself,  it  has  thrown  a  false  light  over  the 
facts,  and  led  the  inquirer  astray. 

The  discoveries  of  modern  astronomy  are  specially  in- 
stanced by  Comte  as  completely  overthrowing  the  notion  of 
any  conscious  design  or  intelligent  purpose  in  the  universe. 
The  order  and  stability  of  the  solar  system  are  found  to  be  the 
necessary  consequences  of  gravitation,  and  are  adequately  ex- 
plained without  any  reference  to  purposes  or  ends  to  be  ful- 
filled in  the  disposition  and  arrangement  of  the  heavenly 
bodies.  "With  persons  unused  to  the  study  of  the  celestial 
bodies,  though  very  likely  informed  on  other  parts  of  natural 
philosophy,  astronomy  has  still  the  reputation  of  being  a  sci- 
ence eminently  religious,  as  if  the  famous  words,  *  The  heavens 

*  "  Human  Physiology,"  p.  542.        "^  "  Outlines  of  Astronomy,"  p.  234. 


212  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

declare  the  glory  of  God,'  had  lost  none  of  their  truth No 

science  has  given  more  terrible  shocks  to  the  doctrine  Qi final 
causes  than  astronomy/  The  simple  knowledge  of  the  move- 
ment of  the  earth  must  have  destroyed  the  original  and  real 
foundation  of  this  doctrine — the  idea  of  the  universe  subordi- 
nated to  the  earth,  and  consequently  to  man.  Besides,  the  ac- 
curate exploration  of  the  solar  system  could  not  fail  to  dispel 
that  blind  and  unlimited  admiration  which  the  general  order  of 
nature  inspires,  by  showing  in  the  most  sensible  manner,  and 
in  a  great  number  of  different  respects,  that  the  orbs  were  cer- 
tainly not  disposed  in  the  most  advantageous  manner,  and  that 
science  permits  us  easily  to  conceive  a  better  arrangement,  by 
the  development  of  true  celestial  mechanism,  since  Newton. 
All  the  theological  philosophy,  even  the  most  perfect,  has  been 
henceforth  deprived  of  its  principal  intellectual  function,  the 
most  regular  order  being  thus  consigned  as  necessarily  estab- 
lished and  maintained  in  our  world,  and  even  in  the  whole 
universe,  by  the  simple  mutual  gravity  of  its  several  parts  y^ 

The  task  of  "  conceiving  a  better  arrangement "  of  the  celes- 
tial orbs,  and  improving  the  system  of  the  universe  generally, 
we  .shall  leave  to  those  who  imagine  themselves  possessed  of 
that  omniscience  which  comprehends  all  the  facts  and  relations 
of  the  actual  universe,  and  foreknows  all  the  details  and  rela- 
tions of  all  possible  universes  so  accurately  as  to  be  able  to 

^  In  a  foot-note  Comte  adds  :  *'  Nowadays,  to  minds  familiarized  betimes 
with  the  true  astronomical  philosophy,  the  heavens  declare  no  other  glory 
than  that  of  Hipparchus,  Kepler,  Newton,  and  all  those  who  have  contrib- 
uted to  the  ascertainment  of  their  laws."  It  seems  remarkable  that  the 
great  men  who  ascertained  these  laws  did  not  see  that  the  saying  of  the 
Psalmist  was  emptied  of  all  meaning  by  their  discoveries.  No  persons 
seem  to  have  been  more  willing  than  these  very  men  named  to  ascribe  all 
the  glory  to  Him  who  established  these  laws.  Kepler  says  :  "  The  astrono- 
mer, to  whom  God  has  given  to  see  more  clearly  with  his  inward  eye,  from 
what  he  has  discovered,  both  can  and  will  glorify  God  ;"  and  Newton  says  : 
"  This  beautiful  system  of  sun,  planets,  comets  could  have  its  origin  in  no 
other  way  than  by  the  purpose  and  command  of  an  intelligent  and  powerful 
Being.  We  admire  him  on  account  of  his  perfections,  we  venerate  and 
worship  him  on  account  of  his  government." — Whewell's  "Astronomy  and 
Physics,"  pp.  197,  198. 

*  "  Positive  Philosophy,"  vol.  ii.  pp.  36-38  ;  TuUoch,  "  Theism,"  p.  1 15. 


GREEK  FJIILOSOPHY.  213 

pronounce  upon  their  relative  "  advantages."  The  arrogance 
of  these  critics  is  certainly  in  startling  and  ludicrous  contrast 
with  the  affected  modesty  which,  on  other  occasions,  restrains 
them  from  "imputing  any  intentions  to  nature."  It  is  quite 
enough  for  our  purpose  to  know  that  the  tracing  of  evidences 
of  design  in  those  parts  of  nature  accessible  to  our  observation 
is  an  essentially  different  thing  from  the  construction  of  a 
scheme  of  optimism  on  d  priori  grounds  which  shall  embrace 
a  universe  the  larger  portion  of  which  is  virtually  beyond  the 
field  of  observation.  We  are  conscious  of  possessing  some  ra- 
tional data  and  some  mental  equipment  for  the  former  task, 
but  for  the  latter  we  feel  utterly  incompetent.^ 

The  only  plausible  argument  in  the  above  quotation  from 
Comte  is,  that  the  whole  phenomena  of  the  solar  system  are 
adequately  explained  by  the  law  of  gravitation,  without  the  in- 
tervention of  any  intelligent  purpose.  Let  it  be  borne  in  mind 
that  it  is  a  fundamental  principle  of  the  Positive  philosophy 
that  all  human  knowledge  is  necessarily  confined  to  phenomena 
perceptible  to  sense,  and  that  the  last  and  highest  achievement 
of  human  science  is  to  observe  and  record  "  the  invariable 
relations  of  resemblance  and  succession  among  phenomena." 
We  can  not  possibly  know  any  thing  of  even  the  existence  of 
"causes"  or  "forces"  lying  back  of  phenomena,  nor  of  "rea- 
sons" or  "purposes"  determining  the  relations  of  phenomena. 
The  "law  of  gravitation  "  must,  therefore,  be  simply  the  state-" 
ment  of  a  fact,  the  expression  of  an  observed  order  of  phenom- 
ena. But  the  simple  statement  of  a  fact  is  no  explanation  of 
the  fact.  The  formal  expression  of  an  observed  order  of  suc- 
cession among  phenomena  is  no  explanation  of  that  order. 
For  what  do  we  mean  by  an  explanation  ?  Is  it  not  a  "  making 
plain"  to  the  understanding?  It  is,  in  short,  a  complete  an- 
swer to  the  questions  how  is  it  so  ?  and  why  is  it  so  ?  Now,  if 
Comte  denies  to  himself  and  to  us  all  knowledge  of  efficient 
and  final  causation,  if  we  are  in  utter  ignorance  of  "  forces " 
operating  in  nature,  and  of  "  reasons  "  for  which  things  exist  in 
^  Chalmers's  "  Institutes  of  Theology,"  vol.  i.  pp.  117,  118. 


214  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

nature,  he  can  not  answer  either  question,  and  consequently 
nothing  is  explained. 

Practically,  however,  Camte  regards  gravitation  as  a  force. 
The  order  of  the  solar  system  has  been  established  and  is  still 
maintained  by  the  mutual  gravity  of  its  several  parts.  We 
shall  not  stop  here  to  note  the  inconsistency  of  his  denying  to 
us  the  knowledge  of,  even  the  existence  of,  force,  and  yet  at  the 
same  time  assuming  to  treat  gravitation  as  a  force  really  ade- 
quate to  the  explanation  of  the  how  and  why  of  the  phenomena 
of  the  universe,  without  any  reference  to  a  supernatural  will  or 
an  intelligent  mind.  The  question  with  which  we  are  imme- 
diately concerned  is  whether  gravitation  alone  is  adequate  to 
the  explanation  of  the  phenomena  of  the  heavens  ?  A  review 
in  extenso  of  Comte's  answer  to  this  question  would  lead  us  into 
all  the  inextricable  mazes  of  the  nebular  hypothesis,  and  in- 
volve us  in  a  more  extended  discussion  than  our  space  permits 
and  our  limited  scientific  knowledge  justifies.  For  the  masses 
of  the  people  the  whole  question  of  cosmical  development  re- 
solves itself  into  "  a  balancing  of  authorities ;"  they  are  not  in 
a  position  to  verify  the  reasonings  for  and  against  this  theory 
by  actual  observation  of  astral  phenomena,  and  the  application 
of  mathematical  calculus ;  they  are,  therefore,  guided  by  bal- 
ancing in  their  own  minds  the  statements  of  the  distinguished 
astronomers  who,  by  the  united  suffrages  of  the  scientific 
world,  are  regarded  as  "  authorities."  For  us,  at  present,  it  is 
enough  that  the  nebular  hypothesis  is  rejected  by  some  of  the 
greatest  astronomers  that  have  lived.  We  need  only  mention 
the  names  of  Sir  William  Herschel,  Sir  John  Herschel,  Prof 
Nichol,  Earl  Rosse,  Sir  David  Brewster,  and  Prof  Whewell. 

But  if  we  grant  that  the  nebular  hypothesis  is  entitled  to 
take  rank  as  an  established  theory  of  the  development  of  the 
solar  system,  it  by  no  means  proves  that  the  solar  system  was 
formed  without  the  intervention  of  intelligence  and  design.  On 
this  point  we  shall  content  ourselves  with  quoting  the  words  of 
one  whose  encyclopaedian  knowledge  was  confessedly  equal  to 
that  of  Comte,  and  who  in  candor  and  accuracy  was  certainly 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  215 

his  superior.  Prof.  Whewell,  in  his  "  Astronomy  and  Physics," 
says  :  "  This  hypothesis  by  no  means  proves  that  the  solar  sys- 
tem was  formed  without  the  intervention  of  intelligence  and 
design.  It  only  transfers  our  view  of  the  skill  exercised  and 
the  means  employed  to  another  part  of  the  work ;  for  how 
came  the  sun  and  its  atmosphere  to  have  such  materials,  such 
motions,  such  a  constitution,  and  these  consequences  followed 
from  their  primordial  condition  ?  How  came  the  parent  vapor 
thus  to  be  capable  of  coherence,  separation,  contraction,  solidi- 
fication 1  How  came  the  laws  of  its  motion,  attraction,  repul- 
sion, condensation,  to  be  so  fixed  as  to  lead  to  a  beautiful  and 
harmonious  system  in  the  end?  How  came  it  to  be  neither 
too  fluid  nor  too  tenacious,  to  contract  neither  too  quickly  nor 
too  slowly  for  the  successive  formation  of  the  several  planetary 
bodies  ?  How  came  that  substance,  which  at  one  time  was  a 
luminous  vapor,  to  be  at  a  subsequent  period  solids  and  fluids 
of  many  various  kinds  ?  What  but  design  and  intelligence  pre- 
pared and  tempered  this  previously-existing  element,  so  that  it 
should,  by  its  natural  changes,  produce  such  an  orderly  sys- 
tem ?"^  "  I7ie  laws  of  motion  alone  will  not  produce  the  regu- 
larity which  we  admire  in  the  motion  of  the  heavenly  bodies. 
There  must  be  an  original  adjustment  of  the  system  on  which 
these  laws  are  to  act ;  a  selection  of  the  arbitrary  quantities 
which  they  are  to  involve ;  a  primitive  cause  which  shall  dis- 
pose the  elements  in  due  relation  to  each  other,  in  order  that 
regular  recurrence  may  accompany  constant  change,  and  that 
perpetual  motion  may  be  combined  with  perpetual  stability.'"* 

The  harmony  of  the  solar  system  in  all  its  phenomena  does 
not  depend  upon  the  operation  of  any  07ie  law,  but  from  the 
special  adjustment  of  several  laws.  There  are  certain  agents 
operating  throughout  the  entire  system  which  have  diflerent 
properties,  and  which  require  special  adjustment  to  each  other, 
in  order  to  their  beneficial  operation,  ist.  There  is  Gravita- 
tion, prevailing  apparently  through  all  space.     But  it  does  not 

^  "Astronomy  and  Physics,"  p.  109. 

'  Chalmers's  "Institutes  of  Theology,"  vol.  i.  p.  119. 


2l6  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

prevail  alone.  It  is  a  force  whose  function  is  to  balance  other 
forces  of  which  we  know  little,  except  that  these,  again,  are 
needed  to  balance  the  force  of  gravitation.  Each  force,  if  left 
to  itself,  would  be  the  destruction  of  the  universe.  Were  it  not 
for  the  force  of  gravitation,  the  centrifugal  forces  which  impel 
the  planets  would  fling  them  off  into  space.  Were  it  not  for 
these  centrifugal  forces,  the  force  of  gravitation  would  dash 
them  against  the  sun.  The  ultimate  fact  of  astronomical  sci- 
ence, therefore,  is  not  the  law  of  gravitation,  but  the  adjustme?it 
between  this  law  and  other  laws,  so  as  to  produce  and  main- 
tain the  existing  order. ^  2d.  There  is  Light,  flowing  from  num- 
berless luminaries ;  and  Heat,  radiating  everywhere  from  the 
warmer  to  the  colder  regions ;  and  there  are  a  number  of  ad- 
justments needed  in  order  to  the  beneficial  operation  of  these 
agents.  Suppose  we  grant  thai  by  merely  mechanical  causes 
the  sun  became  the  centre  of  our  system,  how  did  it  become 
also  the  source  of  its  vivifying  iitfiiiences  ?  "  How  was  the  fire 
deposited  on  this  hearth  ?  How  was  the  candle  placed  on  this 
candlestick?"  3d.  There  is  an  all -pervading  Ether,  through 
which  light  is  transmitted,  which  offers  resistance  to  the  move- 
ment of  the  planetary  and  cometary  bodies,  and  tends  to  a  dis- 
sipation of  mechanical  energy,  and  which  needs  to  be  counter- 
balanced by  well-adjusted  arrangements  to  secure  the  stability 
of  the  solar  system.  All  this  balancing  of  opposite  properties 
and  forces  carries  our  minds  upward  towards  Him  who  holds 
the  balances  in  his  hands,  and  to  a  Supreme  Intelligence  on 
whose  adjustments  and  collocations  the  harmony  and  stability 
of  the  universe  depends.'* 

The  recognition  of  all  teleology  of  organs  in  vegetable  and 
animal  physiology  is  also  persistently  repudiated  by  this  school. 
When  Cuvier  speaks  of  the  combination  of  organs  in  such 
order  as  to  adapt  the  animal  to  the  part  which  it  has  to  play  in 
nature,  Geoffroy  Saint  Hilaire  replies,  "  I  know  nothing  of  ani- 
mals which  have  to  play  a  part  in  nature."     "  I  have  read,  con- 

'  Duke  of  Argyll,  "  Reign  of  Law,"  pp.  91,  92. 

"^  M'Cosh,  "  Typical  Forms  and  Special  Ends,"  ch.  xiii. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPJEY.  217 

cerning  fishes,  that,  because  they  live  in  a  medium  which  re- 
sists more  than  air,  their  motive  forces  are  calculated  so  as  to 
give  them  the  power  of  progression  under  these  circumstances. 
By  this  mode  of  reasoning,  you  would  say  of  a  man  who  makes 
use  of  crutches,  that  he  was  originally  destined  to  the  misfor- 
tune of  having  a  leg  paralyzed  or  amputated."^  With  a  mod- 
esty which  savors  of  affectation,  he  says,  "I  ascribe  no  inten- 
tions to  God,  for  I  mistrust  the  feeble  powers  of  my  reason.  I 
observe  facts  merely,  and  go  no  farther.  I  only  pretend  to  the 
character  of  the  historian  of  what  is"  "  I  can  not  make  Nature 
an  intelligent  being  who  does  nothing  in  vain,  who  acts  by  the 
shortest  mode,  who  does  all  for  the  best.""  All  the  supposed 
consorting  of  means  to  ends  which  has  hitherto  been  regarded 
as  evidencing  Intelligence  is  simply  the  result  of  "  the  elective 
affinities  of  organic  elements  "  and  "  the  differentiation  of  or- 
gans" consequent  mainly  upon  exterior  conditions.  ''^  Func- 
tiofis  are  a  result,  not  an  end.  The  animal  undergoes  the  kind 
of  life  that  his  organs  impose,  and  submits  to  the  imperfections 
of  his  organization.  The  naturalist  studies  the  play  of  his  ap- 
paratus, and  if  he  has  the  right  of  admiring  most  of  its  parts, 
he  has  likewise  that  of  showing  the  imperfection  of  other  parts, 
and  the  practical  uselessness  of  those  which  fulfill  no  func- 
tions."^ And  it  is  further  claimed  that  there  are  a  great  many 
structures  which  are  clearly  useless  ;  that  is,  they  fulfill  no  pur- 
pose at  all.  Thus  there  are  monkeys,  which  have  no  thumbs 
for  use,  but  only  rudimental  thumb -bones  hid  beneath  the 
skin ;  the  wingless  bird  of  New  Zealand  (Apteryx)  has  wing- 
bones  similarly  developed,  which  serve  no  purpose ;  young 
whalebone  whales  are  born  with  teeth  that  never  cut  the  gums, 
and  are  afterwards  absorbed ;  and  some  sheep  have  horns 
turned  about  their  ears  which  fulfill  no  end.  And  inasmuch  as 
there  are  some  organisms  in  nature  which  serve  no  purpose  of 

^  Whewell,  "  History  of  Inductive  Sciences,"  vol.  ii.  p.  486. 
^  Id.,  ib.,  vol.  ii.  p.  490. 

^  Martin's  "  Organic  Unity  in  Animals  and  Vegetables,"  in  M.  Q.  Review, 
January,  1863. 


2i8  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

utility,  it  is  argued  there  is  no  design  in  nature  ;  things  are  used 
because  there  are  antecedent  conditions  favorable  for  tise,  but 
that  use  is  not  the  etid  for  which  the  organ  exists.  The  true 
naturalist  will  never  say,  "  Birds  have  wings  given  them  in  order 
to  fly ;"  he  will  rather  say,  "  Birds  fly  because  they  have  wings." 
The  doctrine  of  final  causes  must,  therefore,  be  abandoned. 

It  is  hardly  worth  while  to  reply  to  the  lame  argument  of 
Geoffroy,  which  needs  a  "  crutch  "  for  its  support.  The  very 
illustration,  undignified  and  irrelevant  as  it  is,  tells  altogether 
against  its  author.  For,  first,  the  crutch  is  certainly  a  con- 
trivance designed  for  locomotion ;  secondly,  the  length  and 
strength  and  lightness  of  the  crutch  are  all  matters  of  calcula- 
tion and  adjustment ;  and,  thirdly,  all  the  adaptations  of  the 
crutch  are  well  considered,  in  order  to  enable  the  lame  man  to 
walk ;  the  function  of  the  crutch  is  the  final  cause  of  its  crea- 
tion. This  crutch  is  clearly  out  of  place  in  Geofiroy's  argu- 
ment, and  utterly  breaks  down.  It  is  in  its  place  in  the  teleo- 
logical  argument,  and  stands  well,  though  it  may  not  behave  as 
well  as  the  living  limb.  The  understanding  of  a  child  can  per- 
ceive that  the  design-argument  does  not  assert  that  men  were 
intended  to  have  amputated  limbs,  but  that  crutches  are  de- 
signed for  those  whose  limbs  are  paralyzed  or  amputated. 

The  existence  of  useless  members,  of  rudimentary  and  abor- 
tive limbs,  does  seem,  at  first  sight,  to  be  unfavorable  to  the 
idea  of  supremacy  of  purpose  and  all -pervading  design.  It 
should  be  remarked,  however,  that  this  is  an  argument  based 
upon  our  ignorance,  and  not  upon  our  knowledge.  It  doe§ 
not  by  any  means  follow  that  because  we  have  discovered  no 
reasons  for  their  existence,  therefore  there  are  no  reasons. 
Science,  in  enlarging  its  conquests  of  nature,  is  perpetually  dis- 
covering the  usefulness  of  arrangements  of  which  our  fathers 
were  ignorant,  and  the  reasons  of  things  which  to  their  minds 
w^ere  concealed ;  and  it  ill  becomes  the  men  who  so  far  "  mis- 
trust their  own  feeble  powers "  as  to  be  afraid  of  ascribing  any 
intention  to  God  or  nature,  to  dogmatically  affirm  there  is  no 
purpose  in  the  existence  of  any  thing.     And  then  we  may  ask. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  219 

what  right  have  these  men  to  set  up  the  idea  of  "  utility  "  as  the 
only  standard  to  which  the  Creator  must  conform  ?  How  came 
they  to  know  that  God  is  a  mere  "  utilitarian ;"  or,  if  they  do 
not  believe  in  God,  that  nature  is  a  miserable  "  Benthamite  ?" 
Why  may  not  the  idea  of  beauty,  of  symmetry,  of  order,  be  a 
standard  for  the  universe,  as  much  as  the  idea  of  utility,  or  mere 
subordination  to  some  practical  end  ?  May  not  conformity  to 
one  grand  and  comprehensive  plan,  sweeping  over  all  nature, 
be  perfectly  compatible  with  the  adaptation  of  individual  exist- 
ences to  the  fulfillment  of  special  ends  ?  In  civil  architecture 
we  have  conformity  to  a  general  plan  ;  we  have  embellishment 
and  ornament,  and  we  have  adaptation  to  a  special  purpose, 
all  combined ;  why  may  not  these  all  be  combined  in  the  archi- 
tecture of  the  universe  ?  The  presence  of  any  one  of  these  is 
sufficient  to  prove  design,  for  mere  ornament  or  beauty  is  itself 
a  purpose,  an  object,  and  an  end.  The  concurrence  of  all 
these  is  an  overwhelming  evidence  of  design.  Wherever 
found,  they  are  universally  recognized  as  the  product  of  intelli- 
gence ;  they  address  themselves  at  once  to  the  intelligence  of 
man,  and  they  place  him  in  immediate  relation  to  and  in  deep- 
est sympathy  with  the  Intelligence  which  gave  them  birth.  He 
that  formed  the  eye  of  man  to  see,  and  the  heart  of  man  to 
admire  beauty,  shall  He  not  delight  in  it  ?  He  that  gave  the 
hand  of  man  its  cunning  to  create  beauty,  shall  He  not  himself 
work  for  it  1  And  if  man  can  and  does  combine  both  "  orna- 
ment" and  "use"  in  one  and  the  same  implement  or  machine, 
why  should  not  the  Creator  of  the  world  do  the  same  ?  "When 
the  savage  carves  the  handle  of  his  war-club,  the  immediate 
purpose  of  his  carving  is  to  give  his  own  hand  a  firmer  hold. 
But  any  shapeless  scratches  would  be  enough  for  this.  When 
he  carves  it  in  an  elaborate  pattern,  he  does  so  for  the  love  of 
ornament,  and  to  satisfy  the  sense  of  beauty."  And  so  "the 
harmonies,  on  which  all  beauty  depends,  are  so  connected  in 
nature  that  use  and  ornament  may  often  both  arise  out  of  the 
same  conditions."' 

*  Duke  of  Argyll,  "  Reign  of  Law,"  p.  203. 


2  20  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

The  "  true  naturalist,"  therefore,  recognizes  two  great  prin- 
ciples pervading  the  universe  —  a  prijiciple  of  order — a  unity 
of  plan,  and  a  principle  of  special  adaptation^  by  which  each 
object,  though  constructed  upon  a  general  plan,  is  at  the  same 
time  accommodated  to  the  place  it  has  to  occupy  and  the  pur- 
pose it  has  to  serve.  In  other  words,  there  is  homology  of 
structure  and  analogy  of  function^  conformity  to  archetypal  for?fis 
and  Teleology  of  organs,  in  wonderful  combination.  Now,  in 
the  Materialistic  school,  it  has  been  the  prevalent  practice  to 
set  up  the  unity  of  plan  in  animal  structures,  in  opposition  to 
the  principle  of  Final  Causes  :  Morphology  has  been  opposed 
to  Teleology.  But  in  nature  there  is  no  such  opposition ;  on 
the  contrary,  there  is  a  beautiful  co-ordination.  The  same 
bones,  in  different  animals,  are  made  subservient  to  the  widest 
possible  diversity  of  functions.  .The  same  limbs  are  converted 
into  fins,  paddles,  wings,  legs,  and  arms.  "No  comparative 
anatomist  has  the  slightest  hesitation  in  admitting  that  the 
pectoral  fin  of  a  fish,  the  wing  of  a  bird,  the  paddle  of  the  dol- 
phin, the  fore-leg  of  a  deer,  the  wing  of  a  bat,  and  the  arm  of  a 
man,  are  the  same  organs,  notwithstanding  that  their  forms  are 
so  varied,  and  the  uses  to  which  they  are  applied  so  unlike 
each  other."^  All  these  are  homologous  in  structure — they  are 
formed  after  an  ideal  archetype  or  model,  but  that  model  or 
type  is  variously  modified  to  adapt  the  animal  to  the  sphere  of 
life  in  which  it  is  destined  to  move,  and  the  organ  itself  to  the 
functions  it  has  to  perform,  whether  swimming,  flying,  walking, 
or  burrowing,  or  that  varied  manipulation  of  which  the  human 
hand  is  capable.  These  varied  modifications  of  the  vertebrated 
type,  for  special  purposes,  are  unmistakable  examples  of  final 
causation.  Whilst  the  silent  members,  the  rudimental  limbs 
instanced  by  Oken,  Martins,  and  others — as  fulfilling  no  pur- 
pose, and  serving  no  end,  exist  in  conformity  to  an  ideal  arche- 
type on  which  the  bony  skeletons  of  all  vertebrated  animals 
are  formed,'*  and  which  has  never  been  departed  from  since 

*  Carpenter's  "  Comparative  Physiology,"  p.  37. 
^  Agassiz,  '*  Essay  on  Classification,"  p.  10. 


GREEK  nilLOSOPHY.  221 

time  began.  This  type,  or  model,  or  plan,  is,  however,  itself 
an  evidence  of  design  as  much  as  the  plan  of  a  house.  For  to 
what  standard  are  we  referring  when  we  say  that  two  limbs 
are  morphologically  the  same  ?  Is  it  not  an  ideal  plan,  a  men- 
tal pattern,  a  metaphysical  conception  ?  Now  an  ideal  implies 
a  mind  which  preconceived  the  idea,  and  in  which  alone  it 
really  exists.  It  is  only  as  "  an  order  of  Divine  thought "  that 
the  doctrine  of  animal  homologies  is  at  all  intelligible  •  and 
Homology  is,  therefore,  the  science  which  traces  the  outward 
embodiment  of  a  Divine  Idea.^  The  principle  of  intentionality 
or  final  causation,  then,  is  not  in  any  sense  invalidated  by  the 
discovery  of  "  a  unity  of  plan  "  sweeping  through  the  entire 
universe. 

We  conclude  that  we  are  justly  entitled  to  regard  "the 
principle  of  intentionality"  as  a  primary  and  necessary  law  of 
thought,  under  which  we  can  not  avoid  conceiving  and  describ- 
ing the  facts  of  the  universe — the  special  adaptatio7i  of  means  to 
ends  necessarily  implies  mifid.  Whenever  and  wherever  we  ob- 
serve the  adaptation  of  an  organism  to  the  fulfillment  of  a  spe- 
cial end,  we  can  not  avoid  conceiving  of  that  end  diS  foreseen  and 
premeditated,  the  meatis  as  selected  and  adjusted  with  a  view 
to  that  end,  and  creative  energy  put  forth  to  secure  the  end — 
all  which  is  the  work  of  intelligence  and  will.'*  And  we  can 
not  describe  these  facts  of  nature,  so  as  to  render  that  account 
intelligible  to  other  minds,  without  using  such  terms  as  "con- 
trivance," "purpose,"  "adaptation,"  "design."  A  striking  il- 
lustration of  this  may  be  found  in  Darwin's  volume  "  On  the 
Fertilization  of  Orchids."  We  select  from  his  volume  with  all 
the  more  pleasure  because  he  is  one  of  the  writers  who  enjoins 
"caution  in  ascribing  intentions  to  nature."  In  one  sentence 
he  says  :  "  The  Labellum  is  developed  into  a  long  nectary,  i7i 
order  to  attract  Lepidoptera ;  and  we  shall  presently  give  rea- 
sons for  suspecting  the  nectar  \^  purposely  so  lodged  that  it  can 

*  Whewell's  "  History  of  Inductive  Sciences,"  vol.  i.  p.  644 ;  "  The  Reign 
of  Law,"  p.  208 ;  Agassiz,  "  Essay  on  Classification,"  pp.  9-1 1. 
"^  Carpenter's  *'  Principles  of  Comparative  Physiology,"  p.  723. 


222  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

be  sucked  only  slowly,  /;/  order  to  give  time  for  the  curious 
chemical  quality  of  the  viscid  matter  settling  hard  and  dry " 
(p.  29).  Of  one  particular  structure  he  says  :  "  This  contriv- 
ance of  the  guiding  ridges  may  be  compared  to  the  little  instru- 
ment sometimes  used  for  guiding  a  thread  into  the  eye  of  a 
needle."  The  notion  that  every  organism  has  a  use  or  pur- 
pose seems  to  have  guided  him  in  his  discoveries.  "The 
strange  position  of  the  Labellum^  perched  on  the  summit  of  the 
column,  ought  to  have  shown  me  that  here  was  the  place  for 
experiment.  I  ought  to  have  scorned  the  notion  that  the  La- 
bellum  was  thus  placed  for  no  good  purpose.  I  neglected  this 
plain  guide,  and  for  a  long  time  completely  failed  to  understand 
the  flower"  (p.  262).^ 

So  that  the  assumption  of  final  causes  has  not,  as  Bacon 
affirms,  "  led  men  astray  "  and  "  prejudiced  further  discovery ;" 
on  the  contrary,  it  has  had  a  large  share  in  every  discovery  in 
anatomy  and  physiology,  zoology  and  botany.  The  use  of 
every  organ  has  been  discovered  by  starting  from  the  assump- 
tion that  it  micst  have  some  use.  The  belief  in  a  creative  pur- 
pose led  Harvey  to  discover  the  circulation  of  the  blood.  He 
says :  "  When  I  took  notice  that  the  valves  in  the  veins  of  so 
many  parts  of  the  body  were  so  placed  that  they  gave  a  free 
passage  to  the  blood  towards  the  heart,  but  opposed  the  pas- 
sage of  the  venal  blood  the  contrary  way,  I  was  incited  to  im- 
agine that  so  provident  a  cause  as  Nature  has  not  placed  so 
many  valves  without  design^  and  no  design  seemed  more  proba- 
ble than  the  circulation  of  the  blood. '"^  The  wonderful  discov- 
eries in  Zoology  which  have  immortalized  the  name  of  Cuvier 
were  made  under  the  guidance  of  this  principle.  He  proceeds 
on  the  supposition  not  only  that  animal  forms  have  some  plan, 
some  purpose,  but  that  they  have  an  intelligible  plan,  a  discov- 
erable purpose.  At  the  outset  of  his  "  Regne  Animal^^^  he  says : 
"Zoology  has  a  principle  of  reasoning  which  is  peculiar  to  it, 
and  which  it  employs  to  advantage  on  many  occasions  ;  that  is, 

'  Edinburgh  Review,  October,  1862  ;  article,  "The  Supernatural." 
^  '*  History  of  Inductive  Science,"  vol.  ii.  p.  449. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


223 


tlie  principle  of  the  conditions  of  existence,  commonly  called 
final  causes."^  The  application  of  this  principle  enabled  him 
to  understand  and  arrange  the  structures  of  animals  with  as- 
tonishing clearness  and  completeness  of  order ;  and  to  restore 
the  forms  of  extinct  ahimals  which  are  found  in  the  rocks,  in  a 
manner  which  excited  universal  admiration,  and  has  command- 
ed universal  assent.  Indeed,  as  Professor  Whewell  remarks, 
at  the  conclusion  of  his  "  History  of  the  Inductive  Sciences," 
"those  who  have  been  discoverers  in  science  have  generally 
had  minds,  the  disposition  of  which  was  to  believe  in  an  intelli- 
gent Maker  of  the  universe,  and  that  the  scientific  speculations 
which  produced  an  opposite  tendency  were  generally  those 
which,  though  they  might  deal  familiarly  with  known  physical 
truths,  and  conjecture  boldly  with  regard  to  unknown,  do  not 
add  to  the  number  of  solid  generalizations."^ 

^  "  History  of  Inductive  Science,"  vol.  ii,  p.  2,  Eng.  ed. 
^  Ibid,,  vol.  ii.  p.  491.     A  list  of  the  "great  discoverers"  is  given  in  his 
"Astronomy  and  Physics,"  bk.  iii.  ch.  v. 


2  24  CHRISTIANITY  AND 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  UNKNOWN  GOD  {continued). 

IS  GOD  COGNIZABLE  BY  REASON  ?  (contmucd). 

*'  The  faith  which  can  not  stand  unless  buttressed  by  contradictions  is 
built  upon  the  sand.  The  profoundest  faith  is  faith  in  the  unity  of  truth. 
If  there  is  found  any  conflict  in  the  results  of  a  right  reason,  no  appeal  to 
practical  interests,  or  traditionary  authority,  or  intuitional  or  theological 
faith,  can  stay  the  flood  of  skepticism." — Abbot. 

IN  the  previous  chapter  we  have  considered  the  answers  to 
this  question  which  are  given  by  the  IdeaUstic  and  Material- 
istic schools ;  it  devolves  upon  us  now  to  review  (iii.)  the  posi- 
tion of  the  school  of  Natural  Realism  or  Natural  Dualism^  at 
the  head  of  which  stands  Sir  William  Hamilton. 

It  is  admitted  by  this  school  that  philosophic  knowledge  is 
"the  knowledge  of  effects  as  dependent  on  their  causes,"^  and 
"  of  qualities  as  inherent  in  substances.'"^ 

1.  As  to  Events  and  Causes. — "  Events  do  not  occur  isolated, 
apart,  by  themselves  ;  they  occur  and  are  conceived  by  us  only 
in  connection.  Our  observation  affords  us  no  example  of  a 
phenomenon  which  is  not  an  effect ;  nay,  our  thought  can  not 
even  realize  to  itself  the  possibility  of  a  phenomenon  without  a 
cause.  By  the  necessity  we  are  under  of  thinking  some  cause 
for  every  phenomenon,  and  by  our  original  ignorance  of  what 
particular  causes  belong  to  what  particular  effects,  it  is  ren- 
dered impossible  for  us  to  acquiesce  in  the  mere  knowledge 
of  the  fact  of  the  phenomenon ;  on  the  contrary,  we  are  deter- 
mined, we  are  necessitated  to  regard  each  phenomenon  as  only 
partially  known  until  we  discover  the  causes  on  which  it  depends 
for  its  existence.^     Philosophic  knowledge  is  thus,  in  its  widest 

^  "  Lectures  on  Metaphysics,"  vol.  i.  p.  58.  "^  Ibid.,  vol.  i.  p.  138. 

^  Ibid.,  vol.  i.  p.  56. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  225 

acceptation,  the  knowledge  of  effects  as  dependent  on  causes. 
Now  what  does  this  imply  ?  In  the  first  place,  as  every  cause 
to  which  we  can  ascend  is  only  an  effect,  it  follows  that  it  is 
the  scope,  that  is,  the  aim,  of  philosophy  to  trace  up  the  series 
of  effects  and  causes  until  we  arrive  at  causes  which  are  not  in 
themselves  effects"^ — that  is,  to  ultimate  and  final  causes.  And 
then,  finally,  "  Philosophy,  as  the  knowledge  of  effects  in  their 
causes,  necessarily  tends,  not  towards  a  plurality  of  ultimate  or 
final  causes,  but  towards  one  alone."* 

2.  As  to  Qualities  and  Substance^  or  Phenomena  and  Reality. — 
"As  phenomena  appear  only  in  conjunction,  we  are  compelled, 
by  the  constitution  of  our  nature,  to  think  them  conjoined  in 
and  by  something  3  and  as  they  are  phenomena,  we  can  not 
think  them  phenomena  of  nothing,  but  must  regard  them  as 
properties  or  qualities  of  something."'  "  Now  that  which  mani- 
fests its  qualities — in  other  words,  that  in  which  the  appearing 
causes  inhere,  that  to  which  they  belong — is  called  their  subject^ 
or  substance^  or  substratum."*'  The  subject  of  one  grand  series 
of  phenomena  (as,  e.g.,  extension,  solidity,  figure,  etc.)  is  called 
matter,  or  material  substance.  The  subject  of  the  other  grand 
series  of  phenomena  (as,  e.g.,  thought,  feeling,  volition,  etc.)  is 
termed  miftd,  or  mental  substance.  "  We  may,  therefore,  lay  it 
down  as  an  undisputed  truth  that  consciousness  gives,  as  an 
ultimate  fact,  a  primitive  duality — a  knowledge  of  the  ego  in  re- 
lation and  contrast  to  the  non-ego,  and  a  knowledge  of  the  non- 
ego  in  relation  and  contrast  to  the  ego.''"  Natural  Dualism  thus 
"  establishes  the  existence  of  two  worlds  of  mind  and  matter  on 
the  immediate  knowledge  we  possess  of  both  series  of  phenom- 
ena ;"  whilst  the  Cosmothetic  Idealists  discredit  the  veracity 
of  consciousness  as  to  our  immediate  knowledge  of  material 
phenomena,  and,  consequently,  our  immediate  knowledge  of  the 
existence  of  matter.''^ 

The  obvious  doctrine  of  the  above  quotations  is,  that  we 

* "  Lectures  on  Metaphysics,"  vol.  i.  p.  58.  "^  Ibid.,  vol.  i.  p.  60. 

^  Ibid.,  vol.  i.  p.  137.  •*  Ibid.,  vol.  i.  p.  137. 

'  *  Ibid.,  vol.  i.  p.  292.  **  Ibid.,  vol.  i.  pp.  292,  295. 

16 


2  26  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

have  an  immediate  knowledge  of  the  ^^ existence  of  matter"  as 
well  as  of  "  the  phenoftiena  of  matter ;"  that  is,  we  know  "  sub- 
stance'^ as  immediately  and  directly  as  we  know  '■'■  qualities T 
Phenomena  are  known  only  as  inherent  in  substance ;  sub- 
stance is  known  only  as  manifesting  its  qualities.  We  never 
know  qualities  without  knowing  substance,  and  we  can  never 
know  substance  without  knowing  qualities.  Both  are  known 
in  one  concrete  act ;  substance  is  known  quite  as  much  as 
quality ;  quality  is  known  no  more  than  substance.  That  we 
have  a  direct,  immediate,  presentative  "face  to  face"  knowl- 
edge of  matter  and  mind  in  every  act  of  consciousness  is  as- 
serted again  and  again  by  Hamilton,  in  his  "  Philosophy  of 
Perception."^  In  the  course  of  the  discussion  he  starts  the 
question,  "/$*  the  knowledge  of  mi7id  and  matter  equally  imme- 
diate V'  His  answer  to  this  question  may  be  condensed  in  the 
following  sentences.  In  regard  to  the  immediate  knowledge 
of  mind  there  is  no  difficulty ;  it  is  admitted  to  be  direct  and 
immediate.  The  problem,  therefore,  exclusively  regards  the 
intuitive  perception  of  the  qualities  of  matter.  Now,  says  Ham- 
ilton, "if  we  interrogate  consciousness  concerning  the  point  in 
question,  the-  response  is  categorical  and  clear.  In  the  sim- 
plest act  of  perception  I  am  conscious  of  myself  as  a  perceiv- 
ing subject^  and  of  an  external  reality  as  the  object  perceived ; 
and  I  am  conscious  of  both  existences  in  the  same  indivisible 
amount  of  intuition."'^  Again  he  says,  "I  have  frequently  as- 
serted that  in  perception  we  are  conscious  of  the  external  ob- 
ject, immediately  and  in  itself  "  If,  then,  the  veracity  of  con- 
sciousness be  unconditionally  admitted — if  the  intuitive  knowl- 
edge of  matter  afid  mind^  and  the  consequent  reality  of  their  an- 
tithesis, be  taken  as  truths,"  the  doctrine  of  Natural  Realism  is 
established,  and,  "without  any  hypothesis  or  demonstration, 
the  reality  of  mind  and  the  reality  of  matter.''^ 

Now,  after  these  explicit  statements  that  we  have  an  intui- 
tive knowledge  of  matter  and  mind — a  direct  and  immediate 

*  Philosophy  of  Sir  William  Hamilton,  part  ii. 

'  Ibid,  p.  i8i.  ^  Ibid.,  pp.  34,  182. 


GREEK  nilLOSOrHY.  227 

consciousness  of  self  as  a  real,  "  self-subsisting  entit}',"  and  a 
knowledge  of  **  an  external  reality,  immediately  and  in  itself,'' 
it  seems  unaccountably  strange  that  Hamilton  should  assert 
"  that  all  human  knowledge,  consequently  all  huinan  philosophy,  is 
only  of  the  Relative  or  Phenomenal ;'"^  and  that  ^^  of  existence  abso- 
lutely and  in  itself  we  know  nothing'''^  Whilst  teaching  that  the 
proper  sphere  and  aim  of  philosophy  is  to  trace  secondary 
causes  up  to  ultimate  or  first  causes,  and  that  it  necessarily  tends 
towards  one  First  and  Ultimate  Cause,  he  at  the  same  time  as- 
serts that  "  first  causes  do  not  lie  within  the  reach  of  philoso- 
phy,"^ and  that  it  can  never  attain  to  the  knowledge  of  the 
First  Cause.*  "  The  Infinite  God  can  not,  by  us,  be  compre- 
hended, conceived,  or  thought.""  God,  as  First  Cause,  as  in- 
finite, as  unconditioned,  as  eternal,  is  to  us  absolutely  "77z^ 
Utikfio7vn.'"  The  science  of  Real  Being — of  Being  in  se — of 
self-subsisting  entities,  is  declared  to  be  impossible.  All  sci- 
ence is  only  of  the  phenomenal,  the  conditioned,  the  relative. 
Ontology  is  a  delusive  dream.  Thus,  after  pages  of  explana- 
tions and  qualifications,  of  afiirmations  and  denials,  we  find 
Hamilton  virtually  assuming  the  same  position  as  Comte  and 
Mill — all  human  knowledge  is  necessarily  confined  to plwiomena. 

It  has-  been  supposed  that  the  chief  glory  of  Sir  William 
Hamilton  rested  upon  his  able  exposition  and  defense  of  the 
doctrine  of  Natural  Realism.  There  are,  however,  indications 
in  his  writings  that  he  regarded  "  the  Philosophy  of  the  Con- 
ditioned "  as  his  grand  achievement.  The  Law  of  the  Condi- 
tioned had  "  not  been  generalized  by  any  previous  philoso- 
pher;" and,  in  laying  down  that  law,  he  felt  that  he  had  made 
a  new  and  important  contribution  to  speculative  thought. 
The  principles  upon  which  this  philosophy  is  based  are  : 
I.  The  Relativity  of  all  Human  Knowledge. — Existence  is  not 
cognized  absolutely  and  in  itself,  but  only  under  special  modes 
which  are  related  to  our  faculties,  and,  in  fact,  determined  by 

'  '*  Lectures  on  Metaphysics,"  vol.  i.  p.  136.  "^  Ibid.,  vol.  i.  p.  138. 

^  Ibid.,  vol.  i.  p.  58.  "  Ibid,  vol.  i.  p.  60. 

*  Ibid.,  vol.  ii.  p.  375. 


2  28  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

these  faculties  themselves.  All  knowledge,  therefore,  is  rela- 
tive— ^^that  is,  it  is  of  phenomena  only,  and  of  phenomena  "  un- 
der modifications  determined  by  our  own  faculties."  Now,  as 
the  Absolute  is  that  which  exists  out  of  all  relation  either  to 
phenomena  or  to  our  faculties  of  knowledge,  it  can  not  possi- 
bly be  known. 

2.  The  Conditmiality  of  all  Thinking. — Thought  necessarily 
supposes  conditions.  "  To  think  is  to  condition ;  and  condi- 
tional limitation  is  the  fundamental  law  of  the  possibility  of 
thought.  As  the  eagle  can  not  out-soar  the  atmosphere  in 
w^hich  he  floats,  and  by  which  alone  he  is  supported,  so  the 
mind  can  not  transcend  the  sphere  of  limitation  within  and 
through  which  the  possibility  of  thought  is  realized.  Thought 
is  only  of  the  conditioned,  because,  as  we  have  said,  to  think  is 
to  condition."^  Now  the  Infinite  is  the  unlimited,  the  uncon- 
ditioned, and  as  such  can  not  possibly  be  thought. 

3.  The  notion  of  the  Infinite — the  Absolute,  as  entertained  by 
man,  is  a  mere  ^^  negation  of  thought. ^^-^'^y  this  Hamilton  does 
not  mean  that  the  idea  of  the  Infinite  is  a  negative  idea.  "  The 
Infinite  and  the  Absolute  are  only  the  names  of  two  counter 
ifnbecilities  of  the  human  mind  '"* — that  is,  a  mental  inability  to 
conceive  an  absolute  limitation,  or  an  infinite  illimitation ;  an 
absolute  commencement,  or  an  infinite  non-commencement. 
In  other  words,  of  the  absolute  and  infinite  we  have  no  concep- 
tion at  all,  and,  consequently,  no  knowledge.^ 

The  grand  law  which  Hamilton  generalizes  from  the  above 
is,  "that  the  conceivable  is  in  every  relation  bounded  by  the  incon- 
ceivable.^^ Or,  again,  "The  conditioned  or  the  thinkable  lies 
between  two  extremes  or  poles ;  and  these  extremes  or  poles 
are  each  of  them  unconditioned,  each  of  them  inconceivable, 
each  of  them  exclusive  or  contradictory  of  the  other."*  This 
is  the  celebrated  "Law  of  the  Conditioned." 

In  attempting  a  brief  criticism  of  "  the  Philosophy  of  the 
Conditioned,"  we  may  commence  by  inquiring  : 

*  "  Discussions,''  p.  21.  ^  Ibid.,  p.  28. 

^  "  Lectures  on  Metaphysics,"  vol.  ii.  pp.  368,  373.    *  Ibid.,  vol.  ii.  p.  373. 


QJtEEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


229 


I.  What  is  the  real  import  and  significance  of  the  doctrine  ^Hhat 
all  human  knowledge  is  only  of  the  relative  or  phenomenal  V^ 

Hamilton  calls  this  "the  great  axiom"  of  philosophy.  That 
we  may  distinctly  comprehend  its  meaning,  and  understand  its 
bearing  on  the  subject  under  discussion,  we  must  ascertain  the 
sense  in  which  he  uses  the  words  ''^ phettomenaP^  and  ''''  relative ^ 
The  importance  of  an  exact  terminology  is  fully  appreciated  by 
our  author ;  and  accordingly,  in  three  Lectures  (VIII.,  IX.,  X.), 
he  has  given  a  full  explication  of  the  terms  most  commonly  em- 
ployed in  philosophic  discussions.  Here  the  word  ''^ phenome- 
non^^ is  set  down  as  the  necessary  '•'•  correlative^^  of  the  word 
^^ subject ^^  or  " substaftce.''^  "These  terms  can  not  be  explained 
apart,  for  each  is  correlative  of  the  other,  each  can  be  compre- 
hended only  in  and  through  its  correlative.  The  term  ^sub- 
ject' is  used  to  denote  the  unknown  (?)  basis  which  lies  under 
the  various  phenomena  or  properties  of  which  we  become  aware, 
whether  in  our  external  or  internal  experience."^  "The  term 
^ relative^  is  opposed  to  the  term  *^^j^/«/'^/'  therefore,  in  saying 
that  we  know  only  the  relative,  I  virtually  assert  that  we  know 
nothing  absolutely,  that  is,  in  and  for  itself  and  without  relation 
to  us  and  our  facilities'^  Now,  in  the  philosophy  of  Sir  William 
Hamilton,  "the  absolute"  is  defined  as  "that  which  is  aloof 
from  relation" — "that  which  is  out  of  all  relation."^  The  ab- 
solute can  not,  therefore,  be  '"''the  correlative^''  of  the  conditioned 
— can  not  stand  in  any  relation  to  the  phenomenal.  The  sub- 
ject^ however,  is  the  necessary  correlative  of  the  phenomenal, 
and,  consequently,  the  subject  and  the  absolute  are  not  identi- 
cal. Furthermore,  Hamilton  tells  us  the  subject  may  be  com- 
prehended in  and  through  its  correlative — the  phenomenon ;  but 
the  absolute,  being  aloof  from  all  relation,  can  not  be  compre- 
hended or  conceived  at  all.  "The  subject"  and  "the  abso- 
lute" are,  therefore,  not  synonymous  terms;  and,  if  they  are 
not  synonymous,  then  their  antithetical  terms,  "phenomenal" 
and  "  relative,"  can  not  be  synonymous. 

*  "  Lectures  on  Metaphysics,"  vol.  i.  p.  148.  "^  Ibid,,  vol.  i.  p.  137. 

^  "  Discussions,"  p.  21. 


230  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

It  is  manifest,  however,  that  Hamilton  does  employ  these 
terms  as  synonymous,  and  this  we  apprehend  is  the  first  false 
step  in  his  philosophy  of  the  conditioned.  "  All  our  knowledge 
is  of  the  relative  or  phenomenal."  Throughout  the  whole  of 
Lectures  VIII.  and  IX.,  in  which  he  explains  the  doctrine  of 
the  relativity  of  human  knowledge,  these  terms  are  used  as  pre- 
cisely analogous.  Now,  in  opposition  to  this,  we  maintain  that 
the  relative  is  not  always  the  phenomenal.  A  thing  may  be 
"in  relation"  and  yet  not  be  a  phenomenon.  "  The  subject  or 
substance  "  may  be,  and  really  is,  on  the  admission  of  Hamil- 
ton himself,  correlated  to  the  phenomenon.  The  ego,  "the  con- 
scious subject"  as  a  ^^ self-subsisting  entity ^^  is  necessarily  re- 
lated to  the  phenomena  of  thought,  feeling,  etc. ;  but  no  one 
would  repudiate  the  idea  that  the  conscious  subject  is  a  mere 
phenomenon,  or  "  series  of  phenomena,"  with  more  indignation 
than  Hamilton.  Notwithstanding  the  contradictory  assertion, 
"  that  the  subject  is  unknown,"  he  still  teaches,  with  equal  posi- 
tiveness,  "  that  in  every  act  of  perception  I  am  conscious  of 
self,  as  a  perceiving  subject."^  And  still  more  explicitly  he 
says :  "  As  clearly  as  I  am  conscious  of  existing,  so  clearly  am 
I  conscious,  at  every  moment  of  my  existence,  that  the  con- 
scious Ego  is  not  itself  a  mere  modification  [a  phenomenon], 
nor  a  series  of  modifications  [phenomena],  but  that  it  is  itself 
different  from  all  its  modifications,  and  a  self-subsisting  entity .""^ 
Again :  "  Thought  is  possible  only  in  and  through  the  con- 
sciousness of  Self.  The  Self,  the  I,  is  recognized  in  every  act 
of  intelligence  as  the  subject  to  which  the  act  belongs.  It  is  I 
that  perceive,  I  that  imagine,  I  that  remember,  etc. ;  these  spec- 
ial modes  are  all  only  the  phenomena  of  the  I."^  We  are, 
therefore,  conscious  of  the  subject  in  the  most  immediate,  and 
direct,  and  intuitive  manner,  and  the  subject  of  which  we  are 
conscious  can  not  be  ^''unknown.''''  We  regret  that  so  distin- 
guished a  philosophy  should  deal  in  such  palpable  contradic- 
tions; but  it  is  the  inevitable  consequence  of  violating  that 

^  Philosophy  of  Sir  William  Hamilton  (edited  by  O.  W.  Wight),  p.  i8i. 
^  **  Lectures  on  Metaphysics,"  vol.  i.  p.  373.  ^  Ibid.,  vol.  i.  p.  166. 


GBEEK  PHILOSOPHY.  23 1 

fundamental  principle  of  philosophy  on  which  Hamilton  so  fre- 
quently and  earnestly  insists,  viz.,  "  that  the  testimony  of  con- 
sciousness must  be  accepted  in  all  its  integrity." 

It  is  thus  obvious  that,  with  proper  qualifications,  we  may 
admit  the  relativity  of  human  knowledge^  and  yet  at  the  same 
time  reject  the  doctrine  of  Hamilton,  that  all  human  knowledge 
is  only  of  the  phenomenal. 

"The  relativity  of  human  knowledge,"  like  most  other 
phrases  into  which  the  word  "  relative  "  enters,  is  vague,  and 
admits  of  a  variety  of  meanings.  If  by  this  phrase  is  meant 
"that  we  can  not  know  objects  except  as  related  to  our  facul- 
ties, or  as  our  faculties  are  related  to  them,"  we  accept  the 
statement,  but  regard  it  as  a  mere  truism  leading  to  no  conse- 
quences, and  hardly  worth  stating  in  words.  It  is  simply  * 
another  way  of  saying  that,  in  order  to  an  object's  being  known, 
it  must  come  within  the  range  of  our  intellectual  vision,  and 
that  we  can  only  know  as  much  as  we  are  capable  of  knowing. 
Or,  if  by  this  phrase  is  meant  "  that  we  can  only  know  things 
by  and  through  the  phenomena  they  present,"  we  admit  this 
also,  for  we  can  no  more  know  substances  apart  from  their 
properties,  than  we  can  know  qualities  apart  from  the  substan- 
ces in  which  they  inhere.  Substances  can  be  known  only  in 
and  through  their  phenomena.  Take  away  the  properties,  and 
the  thing  has  no  longer  any  existence.  Eliminate  extension, 
form,  density,  etc.,  from  matter,  and  what  have  you  left  ?  "The 
thing  in  itself,"  apart  from  its  qualities,  is  nothing.  Or,  again, 
if  by  the  relativity  of  knowledge  is  meant  "  that  all  conscious- 
ness, all  thought  are  relative,"  we  accept  this  statement  also. 
To  conceive,  to  reflect,  to  know,  is  to  deal  with  difference  and 
relation;  the  relation  of  subject  and  object;  the  relation  of 
objects  among  themselves ;  the  relation  of  phenomena  to  re- 
ality, of  becoming  to  being.  The  reason  of  man  is  unquestion- 
ably correlated  to  that  which  is  beyond  phenomena ;  it  is  able 
to  apprehend  the  necessary  relation  between  phenomena  and 
being,  extension  and  space,  succession  and  time,  event  and 
cause,  the  finite  and  the  infinite.     We  may  thus  admit  the  rela- 


232  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

tive  character  of  human  thought,  and  at  the  same  time  deny 
that  it  is  an  ontological  disqualification.^ 

It  is  not,  however,  in  any  of  these  precise  forms  that  Ham- 
ilton holds  the  doctrine  of  the  relativity  of  knowledge.  He 
assumes  a  middle  place  between  Reid  and  Kant,  and  endeav- 
ors to  blend  the  subjective  idealism  of  the  latter  with  the  re- 
alism of  the  former.  "  He  identifies  the  phenomenon  of  the 
German  with  the  quality  of  the  British  philosophy,"^  and  as- 
serts, as  a  regulative  law  of  thought,  that  the  quality  implies 
the  substance,  and  the  phenomenon  the  noumenon,  but  makes 
the  substratum  or  noumenon  (the  object  in  itself)  unknown 
and  unknowable.  The  "  phenomenon  "  of  Kant  was,  however 
something  essentially  different  from  the  "quality"  of  Reid. 
In  the  philosophy  of  K.2inU  phenomenon  means  an  object  as- we 
envisage  or  represent  it  to  ourselves,  in  opposition  to  the 
noumefion,  or  a  thing  as  it  is  in  itself.  The  phenomenon  is 
composed,  in  part,  of  subjective  elements  supplied  by  the  mind 
itself  j  as  regards  intuition,  the  forms  of  space  and  time ;  as 
regards  thought,  the  categories  of  Quantity,  Quality,  Relation, 
and  Modality.  To  perceive  a  thing  in  itself  would  be  to  per- 
ceive it  neither  in  space  nor  in  time.  To  think  a  thing  in  it- 
self would  be  not  to  think  it  under  any  of  the  categories.  The 
phenomenal  is  thus  the  product  of  the  inherent  laws  of  our 
own  constitution,  and,  as  such,  is  the  sum  and  limit  of  all  our 
knowledge.^ 

This,  in  its  main  features,  is  evidently  the  doctrine  pro- 
pounded by  Hamilton.  The  special  modes  in  which  existence 
is  cognizable  "  are  presented  to,  and  known  by,  the  mind  under 
modifications  determined  by  the  faculties  themselves y*'  This  doc- 
trine he  illustrates  by  the  following  supposition :  "  Suppose  the 
total  object  of  consciousness  in  perception  is=i2 ;  and  suppose 
that  the  external  reality  contributes  6,  the  material  sense  3, 

*  Martineau's  "  Essays,"  p.  234. 

^  M'Cosh's  "  Defense  of  Fundamental  Truth,"  p.  106. 

'  Mansel's  "Lectures  on  the  Philosophy  of  Kant,"  pp.  21,  22. 

*  Hamilton's  "  Lectures  on  Metaphysics,"  vol.  i.  p.  148. 


GREEK  FHILOSOFHY. 


233 


and  the  mind  3 ;  this  may  enable  you  to  form  some  rude  con- 
jecture of  the  nature  of  the  object  of  perception."^  The  con- 
clusion at  which  Hamilton  arrives,  therefore,  is  that  things  are 
not  known  to  us  as  they  exist,  but  simply  as  they  appear,  and 
as  our  minds  are  capable  of  perceiving  them. 

Let  us  test  the  validity  of  this  majestic  deliverance.  No 
man  is  justified  in  making  this  assertion  unless,  i.  He  knows 
things  as  they  exist ;  2.  He  knows  things  not  only  as  they  exist 
but  as  they  appear ;  3.  He  is  able  to  compare  things  as  they 
exist  with  the  same  things  as  they  appear.  Now,  inasmuch  as 
Sir  William  Hamilton  affirms  we  do  not  know  things  as  they 
exist,  but  only  as  they  appear,  how  can  he  know  that  there  is 
any  difference  between  things  as  they  exist  and  as  they  appear  ? 
What  is  this  '■^  thing  in  itself  ^^  about  which  Hamilton  has  so 
much  to  say,  and  yet  about  which  he  professes  to  know  nothing? 
We  readily  understand  what  is  meant  by  the  thing;  it  is  the 
object  as  existing — a  substance  manifesting  certain  characteris- 
tic qualities.  But  what  is  meant  by  in  itself?  There  can  be 
no  in  itself  besides  or  beyond  the  thing.  If  Hamilton  means 
that  "the  thing  itself"  is  the  thing  apart  from  all  relation,  and 
devoid  of  all  properties  or  qualities,  we  do  not  acknowledge 
any  such  thing.  A  thing  apart  from  all  relation,  and  devoid 
of  all  qualities,  is  simply  pure  nothing,  if  such  a  solecism  may 
be  permitted.  With  such  a  definition  of  Being  in  se,  the  logic 
of  Hegel  is  invincible,  "  Being  and  Nothing  are  identical." 

And  now,  if  "the  thing  in  itself"  be,  as  Hamilton  says  it  is, 
absolutely  unknown^  how  can  he  affirm  or  deny  any  thing  in 
regard  to  it  ?  By  what  right  does  he  prejudge  a  hidden  reality, 
and  give  or  refuse  its  predicates;  as,  for  example,  that  it  is 
conditioned  or  unconditioned,  in  relation  or  aloof  from  relation, 
finite  or  infinite  ?  Is  it  not  plain  that,  in  declaring  a  thing  in 
its  inmost  nature  or  essence  to  be  inscrutable,  it  is  assumed  to 
be  partially  known  ?  And  it  is  obvious,  notwithstanding  some 
unguarded  expressions  to  the  contrary,  that  Hamilton  does 

^  Hamilton's  "Lectures  on  Metaphysics,"  vol.  ii.  p.  129;  and  also  vol.  i. 
p.  147. 


234  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

regard  "  the  thing  in  itself"  as  partially  known.  "  The  external 
reality  "  is,  at  least,  six  elements  out  of  twelve  in  the  "  total  ob- 
ject of  consciousness."^  The  primary  qualities  of  matter  are 
known  as  in  the  things  themselves ;  "  they  develop  themselves 
with  rigid  necessity  out  of  the  simple  datum  oi  substance  occupy- 
ing space^^  "  The  Primary  Qualities  are  apprehended  as  they 
are  in  bodies  " — "  they  are  the  attributes  of  body  as  body"  and 
as  such  "are  known  immediately  in  themselves,"^  as  well  as 
mediately  by  their  effects  upon  us.  So  that  we  not  only  know 
by  direct  consciousness  certain  properties  of  things  as  they  exist 
in  things  themselves,  but  we  can  also  deduce  them  in  an  d  pri- 
ori manner.  "  The  bare  notion  of  matter  being  given,  the  Pri- 
mary Qualities  may  be  deduced  d  priori;  they  being,  in  fact, 
only  evolutions  of  the  conditions  which  that  notion  necessarily 
implies."  If,  then,  we  know  the  qualities  of  things  as  "  in  the 
things  themselves,"  "  the  things  themselves  "  must  also  be,  at 
least,  partially  known  j  and  Hamilton  can  not  consistently  as- 
sert the  relativity  of  all  knowledge.  Even  if  it  be  granted  that 
our  cognitions  of  objects  are  only  in  part  dependent  on  the 
objects  themselves,  and  in  part  on  elements  superadded  by  our 
organism,  or  by  our  minds,  it  can  not  warrant  the  assertion 
that  all  our  knowledge,  but  only  the  part  so  added,  is  relative. 
"  The  admixture  of  the  relative  element  not  only  does  not  take 
away  the  absolute  character  of  the  remainder,  but  does  not 
even  (if  our  author  is  right)  prevent  us  from  recognizing  it. 
The  confusion,  according  to  him,  is  not  inextricable.  It  is 
for  us  *  to  analyze  and  distinguish  what  elements,'  in  an  *  act 
of  knowledge,'  are  contributed  by  the  object,  and  what  by  the 
organs  or  by  the  mind."* 

Admitting  the  relative  character  of  human  thought  as  a  psy- 
chological fact,  Mr.  Martineau  has  conclusively  shown  that  this 
law,  instead  of  visiting  us  with  disability  to  transcend  phenom- 
ena, operates  as  a  revelation  of  what  exists  beyond.     "  The  finite 

*  "Lectures  on  Metaphysics,"  vol.  ii.  p.  129. 

'  Philosophy  of  Sir  Wm.  Hamilton,  p.  357.  '  Ibid.,  pp.  377,  378. 

*  Mill's  "  Examination  of  Hamilton's  Philosophy,"  vol.  i.  p.  44. 


GREEK  rniLOSOPHY. 


235 


body  cut  out  before  our  visual  perception,  or  embraced  by  the 
hands,  hes  as  an  island  in  the  emptiness  around,  and  without 
comparative  reference  to  this  can  not  be  represented  :  the  same 
experience  which  gives  us  the  definite  object  gives  us  also  the 
infinite  space ;  and  both  terms — the  limited  appearance  and 
the  unlimited  ground — are  apprehended  with  equal  certitude 
and  clearness,  and  furnished  with  names  equally  susceptible  of 
distinct  use  in  predication  and  reasoning.  The  transient  suc- 
cessions, for  instance,  the  strokes  of  a  clock,  which  we  count, 
present  themselves  to  us  as  dotted  out  upon  a  line  of  permanent 
duration ;  of  which,  without  them,  we  should  have  no  appre- 
hension, but  which  as  their  condition,  is  unreservedly  known."^ 

"  What  we  have  said  with  regard  to  space  and  time  applies 
equally  to  the  case  of  Causation.  Here,  too,  the  finite  ofiered 
to  perception  introduces  to  an  Infinite  supplied  by  thought. 
As  a  definite  body  reveals  also  the  space  around,  and  an  inter- 
rupted succession  exhibits  the  uniform  time  beneath,  so  does 
the  passing  phenomenon  demand  for  itself  a  power  beneath. 
The  space,  and  time,  and  power,  not  being  part  of  the  thing 
perceived,  but  its  conditions,  are  guaranteed  to  us,  therefore, 
on  the  warrant,  not  of  sense,  but  of  intellect."^ 

"  We  conclude,  then,  on  reviewing  these  examples  of  Space, 
and  Time,  and  Causation,  that  ontological  ideas  introducing  us 
to  certain  fixed  entities  belong  no  less  to  our  knowledge  than 
scientific  ideas  of  phenomenal  disposition  and  succession."^ 
In  these  instances  of  relation  between  a  phenomenon  given  in 
perception  and  an  entity  as  a  logical  condition,  the  correlatives 
are  on  a  perfect  equality  of  intellectual  validity,  and  the  relative 
character  of  human  thought  is  not  an  ontological  disqualifica- 
tion, but  a  cognitive  power. 

There  is  a  thread  of  fallacy  running  through  the  whole  of 
Hamilton's  reasonings,  consequent  upon  a  false  definition  of 
the  Absolute  at  the  outset.  The  Absolute  is  defined  as  that 
which  exists  in  and  by  itself^  aloof  from  and  out  of  all  relation. 
An  absolute,  as  thus  defined,  does  not  and  can  not  exist ;  it  is 

*  "  Essays,"  pp.  193,  194.  "^  Ibid,  p.  197.  ^  Ibid.,  p.  195. 


236  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

a  pure  abstraction,  and,  in  fact,  a  pure  non-entity.  "  The  Ab- 
solute expresses  perfect  independence  both  in  being  and  in 
action,  and  is  appHcable  to  God  as  self-existent."^  It  may- 
mean  the  absence  of  all  necessary  relation,  but  it  does  not  mean 
the  absence  of  all  relation.  If  God  can  not  voluntarily  call  a 
finite  existence  into  being,  and  thus  stand  in  the  relation  of 
cause.  He  is  certainly  under  the  severest  limitation.  But  surely 
that  is  not  a  limit  which  substitutes  choice  for  necessity.  To 
be  unable  to  know  God  out  of  all  relation — that  is,  apart  from 
his  attributes,  apart  from  his  created  universe,  is  not  felt  by  us 
to  be  any  privation  at  all.  A  God  without  attributes,  and  out 
of  all  relations,  is  for  us  no  God  at  all.  God  as  a  being  of  un- 
limited perfection,  as  infinitely  wise  and  good,  as  the  uncondi- 
tioned cause  of  all  finite  being,  and,  consequently,  as  voluntarily 
related  to  nature  and  humanity,  we  can  and  do  know ;  this  is 
the  living  and  true  God.  The  God  of  a  false  philosophy  is  not 
the  true  God ;  the  pure  abstractions  of  Hegel  and  Hamilton 
are  negations,  and  not  realities. 

2.  We  proceed  to  consider  the  second  fundamental  principle 
of  Hamilton's  philosophy  of  the  conditioned,  viz.,  that  "  con- 
ditional limitation  is  the  fundamental  law  of  the  possibility  of 
thought,"  and  that  thought  necessarily  imposes  conditions  on 
its  object. 

"Thought,"  says  Hamilton,  "can  not  transcend  conscious- 
ness :  consciousness  is  only  possible  under  the  antithesis  of  a 
subject  and  an  object  known  only  in  correlation,  and  mutually 
limiting  each  others*  Thought  necessarily  supposes  conditions ; 
"  to  think  is  simply  to  condition,"  that  is,  to  predicate  limits ; 
and  as  the  infinite  is  the  unlimited,  it  can  not  be  thought. 
The  very  attempt  to  think  the  infinite  renders  it  finite ;  there- 
fore there  can  be  no  infinite  in  thought,  and,  consequently,  the 
infinite  can  not  be  known. 

If  by  "  the  infinite  in  thought "  is  here  meant  the  infinite 
compassed  or  contained  in  thought,  we  readily  grant  that  the 

^  Calderwood's  "  Philosophy  of  the  Infinite,"  p.  179. 
^  "Discussions,"  p.  21. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


237 


finite  can  not  contain  the  infinite  ;  it  is  a  simple  truism  which  no 
one  has  ever  been  so  foolish  as  to  deny.  Even  Cousin  is  not 
so'  unwise  as  to  assert  the  absolutely  comprehensibility  of  God. 
"  In  order  absolutely  to  comprehend  the  Infinite,  it  is  neces- 
sary to  have  an  infinite  power  of  comprehension,  and  this  is 
not  granted  to  us."^  A  finite  mind  can  not  have  "  an  infinite 
thought."  But  it  by  no  means  follows  that,  because  we  can 
not  have  infinite  thought,  we  can  have  no  clear  and  definite 
thought  of  or  concerning  the  Infinite.  We  have  a  precise  and 
definite  idea  of  infinitude  j  we  can  define  the  idea ;  we  can  set 
it  apart  without  danger  of  being  confounded  with  another,  and 
we  can  reason  concerning  it.  There  is  nothing  we  more  cer- 
tainly and  intuitively  know  than  that  space  is  infinite,  and  yet 
we  can  not  comprehend  or  grasp  within  the  compass  of  our 
thought  the  infinite  space.  We  can  not  form  an  image  of  in- 
finite space,  can  not  traverse  it  in  perception,  or  represent  it 
by  any  combination  of  numbers ;  but  we  can  have  the  thought 
of  it  as  an  idea  of  Reason,  and  can  argue  concerning  it  with 
precision  and  accuracy.^  Hamilton  has  an  idea  of  the  Infinite ; 
he  defines  it ;  he  reasons  concerning  it ;  he  says  "  we  must  be- 
lieve in  the  infinity  of  God."  But  how  can  he  define  the  In- 
finite unless  he  possesses  some  knowledge,  however  limited,  of 
the  infinite  Being  ?  How  can  he  believe  in  the  infinity  of  God 
if  he  has  no  definite  idea  of  infinitude  ?  He  can  not  reason 
about,  can  not  affirm  or  deny  any  thing  concerning,  that  of 
which  he  knows  absolutely  nothing. 

The  grand  logical  barrier  which  Hamilton  perpetually  inter- 
poses to  all  possible  cognition  of  God  as  infinite  is,  that  to 
think  is  to  condition — to  limit ;  and  as  the  Infinite  is  the  un- 
conditioned, the  unlimited,  therefore  "  the  Infinite  can  not  be 

^  *'  Lectures  on  History  of  Philosophy,"  vol.  i.  p.  104. 

^  "  To  form  an  image  of  any  infinitude — be  it  of  time  or  space  [or  power] ; 
to  go  mentally  through  it  by  successive  steps  of  representation — is  indeed 
impossible ;  not  less  so  than  to  traverse  it  in  our  finite  perception  and  ex- 
perience. But  to  have  the  thought  of  it  as  an  idea  of  the  .reason,  not  of  the 
phantasy,  and  assign  that  thought  a  constituent  place  in  valid  beliefs  and 
consistent  reasonings,  appears  to  us  as  not  only  possible,  but  inevitable." — 
Martineau's  "  Essays,"  p.  205. 


238  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

thought^  We  grant  at  once  that  all  human  thought  is  limited 
and  finite,  but,  at  the  same  time,  we  emphatically  deny  that  the 
limitation  of  our  thought  imposes  any  conditions  or  limits  upon 
the  object  of  thought.  No  such  affirmation  can  be  consistently 
made,  except  on  the  Hegelian  hypothesis  that  "  Thought  and 
Being  are  identical ;'  and  this  is  a  maxim  which  Hamilton 
himself  repudiates.  Our  thought  does  not  create,  neither  does 
it  impose  conditions  upon,  any  thing. 

There  is  a  lurking  sophism  in  the  whole  phraseology  of 
Hamilton  in  regard  to  this  subject.  He  is  perpetually  talking 
about  "  thinking  a  thing  " —  "  thinking  the  Infinite."  Now  we 
do  not  think  a  thing,  but  we  think  ^or  co7icerning  2i\}ci\xi^.  We 
do  not  think  a  man,  neither  does  our  thought  impose  any  con- 
ditions upon  the  man,  so  that  he  must  be  as  our  thought  con- 
ceives or  represents  him ;  but  our  thought  is  of  the  man,  con- 
cerning or  about  the  man,  and  is  only  so  far  true  and  valid  as 
it  conforms  to  the  objective  reality.  And  so  we  do  not  "think 
the  Infinite ;"  that  is,  our  thought  neither  contains  nor  con- 
ditions the  Infinite  Being,  but  our  thoughts  are  about  the  Infi- 
nite One ;  and  if  we  do  not  think  of  Him  as  a  being  of  infinite 
perfection,  our  thought  is  neither  worthy,  nor  just,  nor  true.* 

But  we  are  told  the  law  of  all  thought  and  of  all  being  is 
determination  ;  consequently,  negation  of  some  quality  or  some 
potentiality  ;"  whereas  the  Infinite  is  ''^  the  One  and  the  AW^ 
(to  "Ep  Kal  Ilav),''  or,  as  Dr.  Mansel,  the  disciple  and  annotator 
of  Hamilton,  affirms,  "the  sum  of  all  reality,"  and  "the  sum  of 
all  possible  modes  of  being."^  The  Infinite,  as  thus  defined, 
must  include  in  itself  all  being,  and  all  modes  of  being,  actual 
and  possible,  not  even  excepting  evil.  And  this,  let  it  be  ob- 
served, Dr.  Mansel  has  the  hardihood  to  affirm.  "  If  the  Ab- 
solute and  the  Infinite  is  an  object  of  human  conception  at  all, 
this,  and  none  other,  is  the  conception  required."*  "  The  In- 
finite Whole,"  as  thus  defined,  can  not  be  thought,  and  there- 

^  Calderwood's  "  Philosophy  of  the  Infinite,"  pp.  255,  256. 

^  Hamilton's  "Lectures  on  Metaphysics,"  Appendix,  vol.  ii.  p.  531. 

^  "  Limits  of  Religious  Thought,"  p.  76.  *  Ibid. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  239 

fore  it  is  argued  the  Infinite  God  can  not  be  known.  Such  a 
doctrine  shocks  our  moral  sense,  and  we  shrink  from  the  thought 
of  an  Infinite  which  includes  evil.  There  is  certainly  a  moral 
impropriety,  if  not  a  logical  impossibility,  in  such  a  conception 
of  God. 

The  fallacy  of  this  reasoning  consists  in  confounding  a  sup- 
posed Quantitative  Infinite  with  the  Qualitative  Infinite — the  to- 
tality of  existence  with  the  infinitely  perfect  One.  "  Qualitative 
infinity  is  a  secondary  predicate  ;  that  is,  the  attribute  of  an  at- 
tribute, and  is  expressed  by  the  adverb  infinitely  rather  than 
the  adjective  infinite.  For  instance,  it  is  a  strict  use  of  lan- 
guage to  say,  that  space  is  infinite,  but  it  is  an  elliptical  use  of 
language  to  say,  God  is  infinite.  Precision  of  language  would 
require  us  to  say,  God  is  infinitely  good,  wise,  and  great ;  or 
God  is  good,  and  his  goodness  is  infinite.  The  distinction  may 
seem  trivial,  but  it  is  based  upon  an  important  diiference  be- 
tween the  infinity  of  space  and  time  on  the  one  hand,  and  the 
infinity  .of  God  on  the  other.  Neither  philosophy  nor  theology 
can  afford  to  disregard  the  difierence.  Quantitative  Infinity  is 
illimitation  by  quantity.  Qualitative  Infinity  is  illimitation  by 
degree.  Quantity  and  degree  alike  imply  finitude,  and  are  cate- 
gories of  the  finite  alone.  The  danger  of  arguing  from  the  for- 
mer kind  of  infinitude  to  the  latter  can  not  be  overstated.  God 
alone  possesses  Qualitative  Infinity,  which  is  strictly  synony- 
mous with  absolute  perfection  ;  and  the  neglect  of  the  distinction 
between  this  and  Quantitative  Infinity,  leads  irresistibly  to  pan- 
theistic and  materialistic  notions.  Spinozism  is  possible  only 
by  the  elevation  of  '  infinite  extension '  to  the  dignity  of  a  di- 
vine attribute.  Dr.  Samuel  Clarke's  identification  of  God's  im- 
mensity with  space  has  been  shown  by  Martin  to  ultimate  in 
Pantheism.  From  ratiocinations  concerning  the  incomprehen- 
sibility of  infinite  space  and  time,  Hamilton  and  Mansel  pass 
at  once  to  conclusions  concerning  the  incomprehensibility  of 
God.  The  inconsequence  of  all  such  arguments  is  absolute ; 
and  if  philosophy  tolerates  the  transference  of  spatial  or  tem- 
poral analogies  to  the  nature  of  God,  she  must  reconcile  her- 


240  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

self  to  the  negation  of  his  personality  and  spirituality."*  An 
Infinite  Being,  quite  remote  from  the  notion  of  quantity^  may 
and  does  exist ;  which,  on  the  one  hand,  does  not  include  finite 
existence,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  does  not  render  the  finite 
impossible  to  thought.  Without  contradiction  they  may  co- 
exist, and  be  correlated. 

The  thought  will  have  already  suggested  itself  to  the  mind 
of  the  reader  that  for  Hamilton  to  assert  that  the  Infinite,  as 
thus  defined  (the  One  and  the  All),  is  absolutely  unknown,  is 
certainly  the  greatest  absurdity,  for  in  that  case  nothing  can 
be  known.  This  Infinite  must  be  at  least  partially  known,  or 
all  human  knowledge  is  reduced  to  zero.  To  the  all-inclusive 
Infinite  every  thing  afiirmative  belongs,  not  only  to  be,  but  to 
be  known.  To  claim  it  for  being,  yet  deny  it  to  thought,  is 
thus  impossible.  The  Infinite,  which  includes  all  real  exist- 
ence, is  certainly  possible  to  cognition. 

The  whole  argument  as  regards  the  conditionating  nature  of 
all  thought  is  condensed  into  four  words  by  Spinoza — "  Omnis 
determinatio  est  ?tegatio  f^  all  determination  is  negation.  Noth- 
ing can  be  more  arbitrary  or  more  fallacious  than  this  princi- 
ple. It  arises  from  the  confusion  of  two  things  essentially  dif- 
ferent— the  limits  of  a  beijtg,  and  its  determi7iate  and  distinguishing 
characteristics.  The  limit  of  a  being  is  its  imperfection ;  the 
determination  of  a  being  is  its  perfection.  The  less  a  thing  is 
determined,  the  more  it  sinks  in  the  scale  of  being ;  the  most 
determinate  being  is  the  most  perfect  being.  "In  this  sense 
God  is  the  only  being  absolutely  determined.  For  there  must 
be  something  indetermined  in  all  finite  beings,  since  they  have 
all  imperfect  powers  which  tend  towards  their  development 
after  an  indefinite  manner.  God  alone,  the  complete  Being  in 
whom  all  powers  are  actualized,  escapes  by  His  own  perfection 
from  all   progress,  and  development,  and   indetermination."^ 

*  North  American  Review,  October,  1864,  article,  "The  Conditioned  and 
the  Unconditioned,"  pp.  422,  423.  See  also  Young's  "  Province  of  Reason," 
p.  72  ;  and  Calderwood's  "  Philosophy  of  the  Infinite,"  p.  183. 

^  Saisset,  "Modern  Pantheism,"  vol.  ii.  p.  71. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


241 


All  real  being  must  be  determined  ;  only  pure  Nothing  can  be 
undetermined.  Determination  is,  however,  one  thing ;  and  lim- 
itation is  essentially  another  thing.  "Even  space  and  time, 
though  cognized  solely  by  negative  characteristics,  are  deter- 
mined in  so  far  as  differentiated  from  the  existences  they  con- 
tain; but  this  differentiation  involves  no  limitation  of  their 
infinity."  If  all  distinction  is  determination,  and  if  all  deter- 
mination is  negation,  that  is  (as  here  used),  limitation,  then  the 
infinite,  as  distinguished  from  the  finite,  loses  its  own  infinity, 
and  either  becomes  identical  with  the  finite,  or  else  vanishes 
into  pure  nothing.  If  Hamilton  will  persist  in  affirming  that 
all  determination  is  limitation,  he  has  no  other  alternatives  but 
to  accept  the  doctrine  of  Absolute  Nihilism,  or  of  Absolute 
Identity.  If  the  Absolute  is  the  indeterminate  —  that  is,  no 
attributes,  no  consciousness,  no  relations — it  is  pure  non-being. 
If  the  Infinite  is  "the  One  and  All,"  then  there  is  but  one 
substance,  one  absolute  entity. 

Herbert  Spencer  professes  to  be  carrying  out,  a  step  farther, 
the  doctrine  put  into  shape  by  Hamilton  and  Mansel,  viz.,  "  the 
philosophy  of  the  Unconditioned."  In  other  words,  he  carries 
that  doctrine  forward  to  its  rigidly  logical  consequences,  and  ut- 
ters the  last  word  which  Hamilton  and  Mansel  dare  not  utter 
— "Apprehensible  by  us  there  is  no  God."  The  Ultimate 
Reality  is  absolutely  unknown ;  it  can  not  be  apprehended  by 
the  human  intellect,  and  it  can  not  present  itself  to  the  intellect 
at  all.  This  Ultimate  Reality  can  not  be  intelligent^  because 
to  think  is  to  condition,  and  the  Absolute  is  the  unconditioned  ; 
can  not  be  conscious^  because  all  consciousness  is  of  plurality 
and  difference,  and  the  Absolute  is  one ;  can  not  be  personal, 
because  personality  is  determination  or  limitation,  and  the  Infi- 
nite is  the  illimitable.  It  is  "audacious,"  "irreverent,"  "impi- 
ous," to  apply  any  of  these  predicates  to  it ;  to  regard  it  as 
Mind,  or  speak  of  it  as  Righteous.^  The  ultimate  goal  of  the 
philosophy  of  the  Unconditioned  is  a  purely  subjective  Atheism. 

And  yet  of  this  Primary  Existence — inscrutable,  and  abso- 
*  "First  Principles,"  pp.  iii,  112. 
16 


242  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

lutely  unknown — Spencer  knows  something ;  knows  as  much 
as  he  pleases  to  know.  He  knows  that  this  "  ultimate  of  ul- 
timates  is  Force^''^  an  '■^Omnipresent  Power ^^"^  is  "6>/z^"  and 
''^Etemair^  He  knows  also  that  it  can  not  be  intelligent, 
self-conscious,  and  a  personality."  This  is  a  great  deal  to 
affirm  and  deny  of  an  existence  "absolutely  unknown."  May 
we  not  be  permitted  to  affirm  of  this  hidden  and  unknown 
something  that  it  is  conscious  Mifid,  especially  as  Mind  is  ad- 
mitted to  be  the  only  analogon  of  Power ;  and  "  the  force  by 
which  we  produce  change,  and  which  serves  to  symbolize  the 
causes  of  changes  in  general,  is  the  final  disclosure  of  analysis.'"* 

3.  We  advance  to  the  review  of  the  third  fundamental  prin- 
ciple of  Hamilton's  philosophy  of  the  Unconditioned,  viz.,  that 
the  terms  infinite  and  absolute  are  names  foi'  a  "  mere  negation 
of  thought"  —  a  "mental  impotence"  to  think,  or,  in  other 
words,  the  absence  of  all  the  conditions  under  which  thought  is 
possible. 

This  principle  is  based  upon  a  distinction  between  "posi- 
tive "  and  "  negative  "  thought,  which  is  made  with  an  air  of 
wonderful  precision  and  accuracy  in  "  the  Alphabet  of  Human 
Thought.""  "  Thinking  is  positive  when  existence  is  predicated 
of  an  object."  "Thinking  is  negative  when  existence  is  not  at- 
tributed to  an  object."  "Negative  thinking,"  therefore,  is  not 
the  thinking  of  an  object  as  devoid  of  this  or  that  particular 
attribute,  but  as  devoid  of  all  attributes,  and  thus  of  all  exist- 
ence; that  is,  it  is  "the  negation  of  all  thought"  —  nothing. 
"  When  we  think  a  thing,  that  is  done  by  conceiving  it  as  pos- 
sessed of  certain  modes  of  being  or  qualities,  and  the  sum  of 
these  qualities  constitutes  its  concept  or  notion"  "When  we  per- 
form an  act  of  negative  thought,  this  is  done  by  thinking  some- 
thing as  not  existing  in  this  or  that  determinate  mode ;  and 
when  we  think  it  as  existing  in  no  determinate  mode,  we  cease 
to  think  at  all — //  becomes  a  nothing."''     Now  the  Infinite,  ac- 

*  "  First  Principles,"  p.  235.         "^  Ibid.,  p.  99.         ^  Ibid.,  p.  81. 

*  Ibid.,  pp.  108-112.  ®  Ibid.,  p.  235. 

'  "Discussions,"  Appendix  I.  p.  567.  '  "Logic,"  pp.  54,  55. 


Jy     V  or   THE 

IfuiTIVERSr 

cording  to  Hamilton,  can  not  be  thought  in  any^J^Mjtiate  "  '^.^ 
mode  j  therefore  we  do  not  think  it  at  all,  and  therefore  it  is 
for  us  "  a  logical  Non-entity." 

It  is  barely  conceivable  that  Hamilton  might  imagine  him- 
self possessed  of  this  singular  power  of  "  performing  an  act  of 
negative  thought"— that  is,  of  thinking  and  not  thinking  at 
once,  or  of  "  thinking  something "  that  "  becomes  nothing ;" 
we  are  not  conscious  of  any  such  power.  To  think  without  an 
object  of  thought,  or  to  think  of  something  without  any  quali- 
ties, or  to  think  "  something  "  which  in  the  act  of  thought  melts 
away  into  "  nothing,"  is  an  absurdity  and  a  contradiction.  We 
can  not  think  about  nothing.  All  thought  must  have  an  ob- 
ject, and  every  object  must  have  some  predicate.  Even  space 
has  some  predicates  —  as  receptivity,  unity,  and  infinity. 
Thought  can  only  be  realized  by  thinking  something  existing, 
and  existing  in  a  determinate  manner ;  and  when  we  cease  to 
think  something  having  predicates,  we  cease  to  think  at  all. 
This  is  emphatically  asserted  by  Hamilton  himself.^  "Nega- 
tive thinking"  is,  therefore,  a  meaningless  phrase,  a  contradic- 
tion in  terms  ;  it  is  no  thought  at  all.  We  are  cautioned,  how- 
ever, against  regarding  "  the  negation  of  thought "  as  "  a  nega- 
tion of  all  mental  ability."  It  is,  we  are  told,  "  an  attempt  to 
think,  and  a  failure  in  the  attempt."  An  attempt  to  think 
about  what?  Surely  it  must  be  about  some  object,  and  an  ob- 
ject which  is  known  by  some  sign,  else  there  can  be  no  thought. 
Let  any  one  make  the  attempt  to  think  without  something  to 
think  about,  and  he  will  find  that  both  the  process  and  the  re- 
sult are  blank  nothingness.  All  thought,  therefore,  as  Calder- 
wood  has  amply  shown,  is,  must  he, positive.  "Thought  is 
nothing  else  than  the  comparison  of  objects  known ;  and  as 
knowledge  is  always  positive,  so  must  our  thought  be.  All 
knowledge  implies  an  object  knowi} ;  and  so  all  thought  in- 
volves an  object  about  which  we  think,  and  must,  therefore,  be 
positive— that  is,  it  must  embrace  within  itself  the  conception 
of  certain  qualities  as  belonging  to  the  object."^ 

^  "  Logic,"  p.  55.  ^  '*  Philosophy  of  the  Infinite,"  p.  272. 


244 


CHRISTIANITY  AND 


The  conclusion  of  Hamilton's  reasoning  in  regard  to  "  nega- 
tive thinking"  is,  that  we  can  form  no  notion  of  the  Infinite 
Being.  We  have  no  positive  idea  of  such  a  Being.  We  can 
think  of  him  only  by  "  the  thinking  away  of  every  characteris- 
tic "  which  can  be  conceived,  and  thus  "  ceasing  to  think  at 
all."  We  can  only  form  a  "  negative  concept,"  which,  we  are 
told,  "  is  in  fact  no  concept  at  all."  We  can  form  only  a  "neg- 
ative notion,"  which,  we  are  informed,  "  is  only  the  negation  of 
a  notion."  This  is  the  impenetrable  abyss  of  total  gloom  and 
emptiness  into  which  the  philosophy  of  the  conditions  leads  us 
at  last.' 

Still  we  have  the  word  infinite,  and  we  have  the  notion  which 
the  word  expresses.  This,  at  least,  is  spared  to  us  by  Sir  Wil- 
liam Hamilton.  He  who  says  we  have  no  such  notion  asks 
the  question  how  we  have  it  ?  "  Here  it  may  be  asked,  how 
have  we,  then,  the  word  infinite  ?  How  have  we  the  notion 
which  this  word  expresses.^  The  answer  to  this  question  is 
contained  in  the  -distinction  of  positive  and  negative  thought. 

^  Whilst  Spencer  accepts  the  general  doctrine  of  Hamilton,  that  the  Ulti- 
mate Reality  is  inscrutable,  he  argues  earnestly  against  his  assertion  that 
the  Absolute  is  a  "mere  negation  of  thought." 

"  Every  one  of  the  arguments  by  which  the  relativity  of  our  knowledge  is 
demonstrated  distinctly  postulates  the  positive  existence  of  something  beyond 
the  relative.  To  say  we  can  not  know  the  Absolute  is,  by  implication,  to 
affirm  there  is  an  Absolute.  In  the  very  denial  of  our  power  to  learn  what 
the  Absolute  is,  there  Jies  hidden  the  assumption  that  it  is  ;  and  the  making 
of  this  assumption  proves  that  the  Absolute  has  been  present  to  the  mind, 
not  as  nothing,  but  as  something.  And  so  with  every  step  in  the  reasoning 
by  which  the  doctrine  is  i^pheld,  the  Noumenon,  everywhere  named  as  the 
antithesis  of  the  Phenomenon,  is  throughout  thought  as  actuality.  It  is 
rigorously  impossible  to  conceive  that  our  knowledge  is  a  knowledge  of 
appearances  only,  without,  at  the  same  time,  conceiving  a  Reality  of  which 
these  are  appearances,  for  appearances  without  reality  are  unthinkable. 

"  Truly  to  represent  or  realize  in  thought  any  one  of  the  propositions  of 
which  the  argument  consists,  the  unconditioned  must  be  represented  as  posi- 
tive, and  not  negative.  How,  then,  can  it  be  a  legitimate  conclusion  from 
the  argument  that  our  consciousness  of  it  is  negative  }  An  argument,  the 
very  construction  of  which  assigns  to  a  certain  term  a  certain  meaning,  but 
which  ends  in  showing  that  this  term  has  no  meaning,  is  simply  an  elaborate 
suicide.  Clearly,  then,  the  very  demonstration  that  a  definite  consciousness 
[comprehension]  of  the  Absolute  is  impossible,  unavoidably  presupposes  an 
indefinite  consciousness  of  it  [an  apprehension]." — "First  Principles,"  p.  88. 


GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 


245 


We  have  a  positive  concept  of  a  thing  when  we  think  of  it  by 
the  qualities  of  which  it  is  the  complement.  But  as  the  attri- 
bution of  qualities  is  an  affirmation,  as  affirmation  and  negation 
are  relatives,  and  as  relatives  are  known  only  in  and  through 
each  other^  we  can  not,  therefore,  have  a  consciousness  of  the 
affirmation  of  any  quality  without  having,  at  the  same  time,  the 
correlative  consciousness  of  its  negation.  Now  the  one  conscious- 
ness is  a  positive,  the  other  consciousness  is  a  negative  notion ; 
and  as  all  language  is  the  reflex  of  thought,  the  positive  and 
negative  notions  are  expressed  by  positive  and  negative  names. 
Thus  it  is  with  the  Infinite."^  Now  let  us  carefully  scrutinize 
the  above  deliveranceo  We  are  told  that  "  relatives  are  known 
only  in  and  through  each  other;"  that  is,  such  relatives  as 
fijiite  and  infinite  are  known  necessarily  in  the  same  act  of 
thought.  The  knowledge  of  one  is  as  necessary  as  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  other.  We  can  not  have  a  consciousness  of  the 
one  without  the  correlative  consciousness  of  the  other.  "  For," 
says  Hamilton,  "  a  relation  is,  in  truth,  a  thought,  one  and  in- 
divisible ;  and  while  the  thinking  a  relation  necessarily  involves 
the  thought  of  its  two  terms,  so  it  is,  with  equal  necessity,  itself 
involved  in  the  thought  of  either."  If,  then,  we  are  conscious 
of  the  two  terms  of  the  relation  in  the  same  "  one  and  indivisi- 
ble "  mental  act — if  we  can  not  have  "  the  consciousness  of  the 
one  without  the  consciousness  of  the  other  " — if  space  and  posi- 
tion, time  and  succession,  substance  and  quality,  infinite  and 
finite,  are  given  to  us  in  pairs,  then  '  the  knowledge  of  one  is  as 
necessary  as  the  knowledge  of  the  other ^  and  they  must  stand  or 
fall  together.  The  finite  is  known  no  more  positively  than  the 
infinite ;  the  infinite  is  known  as  positively  as  the  finite.  The 
one  can  not  be  taken  and  the  other  left.  The  infinite,  dis- 
charged from  all  relation  to  the  finite,  could  never  come  into 
apprehension ;  and  the  finite,  discharged  of  all  relation  to  the 
infinite,  is  incognizable  too.  "There  can  be  no  objection  to 
call  the  one  *  positive'  and  the  other  *  negative,'  provided  it 
be  understood  that  each  is  so  with  regard  to  the  other,  and  that 
•     » '  Logic,"  p.  73. 


246  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

the  relation  is  convertible ;  the  finite,  for  instance,  being  the 
negative  of  the  infinite,  not  less  than  the  infinite  of  the  finite.'" 

To  say  that  the  finite  is  comprehensible  in  and  by  itself,  and 
the  infinite  is  incomprehensible  in  and  by  itself,  is  to  make  an 
assertion  utterly  at  variance  both  with  psychology  and  logic. 
The  finite  is  no  more  comprehensible  in  itself  than  the  infinite. 
"  Relatives  are  known  only  in  and  through  each  other.  "^  "  The 
conception  of  one  term  of  a  relation  necessarily  implies  that  of 
the  other,  it  being  the  very  nature  of  a  relative  to  be  thinkable 
only  through  the  conjunct  thought  of  its  correlative."  We 
comprehend  nothing  more  completely  than  the  infinite ;  "  for 
the  idea  of  illimitation  is  as  clear,  precise,  and  intelligible  as 
the  idea  of  limitability,  which  is  its  basis.  The  propositions 
"A  is  X,"  "A  is  not  X,"  are  equally  comprehensible ;  the  con- 
ceptions A  and  X  are  in  both  cases  positive  data  of  experience, 
while  the  affirmation  and  negation  consist  solely  in  the  copula- 
tive or  disjunctive  nature  of  the  predication.  Consequently, 
if  X  is  comprehensible,  so  is  not— X;  if  the  finite  is  compre- 
hensible, so  is  the  infinite.'" 

Whilst  denying  that  the  infinite  can  by  us  be  known^  Hamil- 
ton tells  us  he  is  "  far  from  denying  that  it  is,  must,  and  ought 
^0  be  believed."*  "We  must  believe  in  the  infinity  of  God." 
"  Faith — belief — is  the  organ  by  which  we  apprehend  what  is 
beyond  knowledge."^  We  heartily  assent  to  the  doctrine  that 
the  Infinite  Being  is  the  object  of  faith,  but  we  earnestly  deny 
that  the  Infinite  Being  is  not  an  object  of  knowledge.  May 
not  knowledge  be  grounded  upon  faith,  and  does  not  faith  im- 
ply knowledge  ?  Can  we  not  obtain  knowledge  through  faith  ? 
Is  not  the  belief  in  the  Infinite  Being  implied  in  our  knowledge 
of  finite  existence  ?  If  so,  then  God  as  the  infinite  and  perfect, 
God  as  the  unconditioned  Cause,  is  not  absolutely  "the  un- 
known." 

*  Martineau's  "Essays,"  p.  237.  ^  Hamilton's  "Logic,"  p.  73. 

^  North  American  Review,  October,  1864,  article  "Conditioned  and  the 
Unconditioned,"  pp.  441,  442. 

*  Letter  to  Calderwood,  Appendix,  vol.  ii,  p.  530. 
^  "Lectures  on  Metaphysics,"  vol.  ii.  p.  374. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


247 


A  full  exposition  of  Sir  William  Hamilton's  views  of  Faith 
in  its  connection  with  Philosophy  would  have  been  deeply  in- 
teresting to  us,  and  it  would  have  filled  up  a  gap  in  the  inter- 
pretation of  his  system.  The  question  naturally  presents  itself, 
how  would  he  have  discriminated  between  faith  and  knowledge, 
so  as  to  assign  to  each  its  province  ?  If  our  notion  of  the  In- 
finite Being  rests  entirely  upon  faith,  then  upon  what  ultimate 
ground  does  faith  itself  rest  ?  On  the  authority  of  Scripture, 
of  the  Church,  or  of  reason  ?  The  only  explicit  statement  of 
his  view  which  has  fallen  in  our  way  is  a  note  in  his  edition  of 
Reid.^  "We  know  what  rests  upon  reason;  we  believe  what 
rests  upon  authority.  But  reason  itself  must  rest  at  last  upon 
authority ;  for  the  original  data  of  reason  do  not  rest  upon 
reason,  but  are  necessarily  accepted  by  reason  on  the  authority 
of  what  is  beyond  itself.  These  data  are,  therefore,  in  rigid 
propriety.  Beliefs  or  Trusts.  Thus  it  is  that,  in  the  last  resort, 
we  must,  per  force,  philosophically  admit  that  belief  is  the  pri- 
mary condition  of  reason,  and  not  reason  the  ultimate  ground 
of  belief." 

Here  we  have,  first,  an  attempted  distinction  between  faith 
and  knowledge.  "  We  know  what  rests  upon  reason  ;"  that  is, 
whatever  we  obtain  by  deduction  or  induction,  whatever  is  capa- 
ble of  explication  and  proof,  is  knowledge.  "We  believe  what 
rests  upon  authority ;"  that  is,  whatever  we  obtain  by  intellec- 
tual intuition  or  pure  apperception,  and  is  incapable  of  expli- 
cation and  of  proof,  is  "  a  belief  or  trust. ^^  These  instinctive 
beliefs,  which  are,  as  it  were,  the  first  principles  upon  which  all 
knowledge  rests,  are,  however,  indiscriminately  called  by  Ham- 
ilton "cognitions,"  "beliefs,"  "judgments."  He  declares  most 
explicitly  "that  the  principles  of  our  knowledge  must  them- 
selves be  knowledges  i"'^  and  these  first  principles,  which  are 
"  the  primary  condition  of  reason,"  are  elsewhere  called  "  a 
priori  cognitions  /"  also  "  native,  pure,  or  transcendental  knowl- 
edge^^ in  contradistinction  to  "  d  posteriori  cognitions,'^  or  that 

*  P.  760 ;  also  Philosophy  of  Sir  William  Hamilton,  p.  61. 
2  Ibid.,  p.  69. 


248  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

knowledge  which  is  obtained  in  the  exercise  of  reason.*  All 
this  confusion  results  from  an  attempt  to  put  asunder  what 
God  has  joined  together.  As  Clemens  of  Alexandria  has  said, 
"  Neither  is  faith  without  knowledge,  nor  knowledge  without 
faith."  All  faith  implies  knowledge,  and  all  knowledge  implies 
faith.  They  are  mingled  in  the  one  operation  of  the  human 
mind,  by  which  we  apprehend  first  principles  or  ultimate  truths. 
These  have  their  light  and  dark  side,  as  Hamilton  has  re- 
marked. They  afford  enough  light  to  show  that  they  are  and 
must  be,  and  thus  communicate  knowledge ;  they  furnish  no 
light  to  show  how  they  are  and  why  they  are,  and  under  that 
aspect  demand  the  exercise  of  faith.  There  must,  therefore, 
first  be  something  known  before  there  can  be  znyfaith.^ 

And  now  we  seem  to  have  penetrated  to  the  centre  of  Ham- 
ilton's philo*sophy,  and  the  vital  point  may  be  touched  by  one 
crucial  question.  Upon  what  ultimate  groimd  does  faith  itself  rest  ^ 
Hamilton  says,  "we  believe  what  rests  upon  authority T  But 
what  is  that  authority?  i.  It  is  not  the  authority  of  Divine 
Revelation,  because  beliefs  are  called  "  instinctive,"  "  native," 
*'  innate,"  "  common,"  "  catholic,"^  all  which  terms  seem  to  in- 
dicate that  this  "authority"  lies  within  the  sphere  of  the  human 
mind ;  at  any  rate,  this  faith  does  not  rest  on  the  authority  of 
Scripture.  Neither  is  it  the  authority  of  Reason.  "  The  orig- 
inal data  of  reason  [the  first  principles  of  knowledge]  do  not 
rest  upon  the  authority  of  reason,  but  on  the  authority  of  what  is 
beyond  itself'^  The  question  thus  recurs,  what  is  this  ultimate 
ground  beyond  reason  upon  which  faith  rests  ?  Does  it  rest 
upon  any  thing,  or  nothing .? 

The  answer  to  this  question  is  given  in  the  so-called  "  Law 
of  the  Conditioned,"  which  is  thus  laid  down  :  "^//  that  is  con- 
ceivable in  thought  lies  between  two  extremes^  which,  as  cofitradic- 
tory  of  each  other,  can  not  both  be  true,  but  of  which,  as  inutual 
contradictories,  one  mustP     For  example,  we  conceive  space,  but 

^  "  Lectures  on  Metaphysics,"  vol.  ii.  p.  26. 

^  M'Cosh,  "  Intuitions,"  pp.  197,  198  ;  Calderwood,  "  Philosophy  of  the 
Infinite,"  p.  24.  ^  Philosophy  of  Sir  Wm.  Hamilton,  pp.  68,  69. 


GREEK  THILO SOPHY.  249 

we  can  not  conceive  it  as  absolutely  bounded  or  infinitely  un- 
bounded. We  can  conceive  time,  but  we  can  not  conceive  it 
as  having  an  absolute  commencement  or  an  infinite  non-com- 
mencement. We  can  conceive  of  degree,  but  we  can  not  con- 
ceive it  as  absolutely  limited  or  as  infinitely  unlimited.  We 
can  conceive  of  existence,  but  not  as  an  absolute  part  or  an  infi- 
nite whole.  Therefore,  "the  Conditioned  is  that  which  is 
alone  conceivable  or  cogitable  ;  the  Unconditioned,  that  which 
is  inconceivable  or  incogitable.  The  conditioned,  or  the  think- 
able, lies  between  two  extremes  or  poles;  and  each  of  these 
extremes  or  poles  are  unconditioned,  each  of  them  inconceiva- 
ble, each  of  them  exclusive  or  contradictory  of  the  other.  Of 
these  two  repugnant  opposites,  the  one  is  that  of  Unconditional 
or  Absolute  Limitation  ;  the  other  that  of  Unconditional  or  In- 
finite Illimitation,  or,  more  simply,  the  Absolute  and  the  Infi- 
nite ;  the  term  absolute  expressing  that  which  is  finished  or 
complete,  the  term  infinite  that  which  can  not  be  terminated  or 
concluded."^ 

"  The  conditioned  is  the  mean  between  two  extremes — two 
inconditionates,  exclusive  of  each  other,  neither  of  which  can  be 
conceived  as  possible,  but  of  which,  on  the  principle  of  contradic- 
tion, and  excluded  middle,  one  must  be  admitted  as  necessary. 
We  are  thus  warned  from  recognizing  the  domain  of  our  knowl- 
edge as  necessarily  co-extensive  with  the  horizon  of  our  faith. 
And  by  a  wonderful  revelation,  we  are  thus,  in  the  very  con- 
sciousness of  our  inability  to  conceive  aught  above  the  relative 
and  the  finite,  inspired  with  a  belief  in  the  existence  of  some- 
thing unconditioned  beyond  the  sphere  of  all  comprehensible 
reality.'"  Here,  then,  we  have  found  the  ultimate  ground  of 
our  faith  in  the  Infinite  God.  It  is  built  upon  a  "  mental  im- 
becility," and  buttressed  up  by  "  contradictions  !"^ 

^  "Lectures  on  Metaphysics,"  vol.  ii.  pp.  368,  374.  With  Hamilton,  the 
Unconditioned  is  a  genus,  of  which  the  Infinite  and  Absolute  are  species. 

^  "  Discussions  on  Philosophy,"  p.  22. 

^  The  warmest  admirers  of  Sir  William  Hamilton  hesitate  to  apply  the 
doctrine  of  the  unconditioned  to  Cause  and  Free-will.  See  **  Mansel's  Pro- 
legom.,"  Note  C,  p.  265. 


250  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

Such  a  faith,  however,  is  built  upon  the  clouds,  and  the  whole 
structure  of  this  philosophy  is  "a  castle  in  the  air" — an  attempt 
to  organize  Nescience  into  Science,  and  evoke  something  out 
of  nothing.  To  pretend  to  believe  in  that  respecting  which 
I  can  form  no  notion  is  in  reality  not  to  believe  at  all.  The 
nature  which  compels  me  to  believe  in  the  Infinite  must  supply 
me  some  object  upon  which  my  belief  can  take  hold.  We  can 
not  believe  in  contradictions.  Our  faith  must  be  a  rational 
belief — a  faith  in  the  ultimate  harmony  and  unity  of  all  truth, 
in  the  veracity  and  integrity  of  human  reason  as  the  organ  of 
truth ;  and,  above  all,  a  faith  in  the  veracity  of  God,  who  is  the 
author  and  illuminator  of  our  mentUl  constitution,  "  We  can 
not  suppose  that  we  are  created  capable  of  intelligence  in  order 
to  be  made  victims  of  delusion — that  God  is  a  deceiver,  and 
the  root  of  our  nature  a  lie.'"  We  close  our  review  of  Hamilton 
by  remarking : 

I.  "The  Law  of  the  Conditioned,"  as  enounced  by  Hamil- 
ton, is  contradictory.  It  piedicates  contradiction  of  two  ex- 
tremes, which  are  asserted  to  be  equally  incomprehensible  and 
incognizable.  If  they  are  utterly  incognizable,  how  does  Ham- 
ilton know  that  they  are  contradictory  ?  The  mutual  relation 
of  two  objects  is  said  to  be  known,  but  the  objects  themselves 
are  absolutely  unknown.  But  how  can  we  know  any  relation 
except  by  an  act  of  comparison,  and  how  can  we  compare  two 
objects  so  as  to  affirm  their  relation,  if  the  objects  are  absolutely 
unknown  ?  "  The  Infinite  is  defined  as  Unconditional  Illimi- 
tation ;  the  Absolute  as  Conditional  Limitation.  Yet  almost  in 
the  same  breath  we  are  told  that  each  is  utterly  inconceivable, 
each  the  mere  negation  of  thought.  On  the  one  hand,  we  are 
told  they  differ ;  on  the"  other,  we  are  told  they  do  not  differ. 
Now  which  does  Hamilton  mean  ?  If  he  insist  upon  the  defini- 
tions as  yielding  a  ground  of  conceivable  difference,  he  must 
abandon  the  inconceivability ;  but  if  he  insist  upon  the  incon- 
ceivability, he  must  abandon  the  definition  as  sheer  verbiage, 
devoid  of  all  conceivable  meaning.  There  is  no  possible  es- 
*  Philosophy  of  Sir  William  Hamilton,  p.  21. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  251 

cape  from  this  dilemma.  Further,  two  negations  can  never 
contradict ;  for  contradiction  is  the  asserting  and  the  denying 
of  the  same  proposition  ;  two  denials  can  not  conflict.  If  II- 
limitation  is  negative,  Limitation,  its  contradictory,  is  positive, 
whether  conditional  or  unconditional.  In  brief,  if  the  Infinite 
and  Absolute  are  wholly  incomprehensible,  they  are  not  dis- 
tinguishable ;  but  if  they  are  distinguishable,  they  are  not 
wholly  incomprehensible.  If  they  are  indistinguishable,  they 
are  to  us  identical ;  and  identity  precludes  contradiction.  But 
if  they  are  distinguishable,  distinction  is  made  by  difference, 
which  involves  positive  cognition  ;  hence  one,  at  least,  must  be 
conceivable.  It  follows,  therefore,  by  inexorable  logic,  that 
either  the  contradiction  or  the  inconceivability  must  be  aban- 
doned."' 

2.  "  The  Law  of  the  Conditioned,"  as  a  ground  of  faith  in 
the  Infinite  Being,  is  utterly  void,  meaningless,  and  ineffectual. 
Let  us  re-state  it  in  Hamilton's  own  words  :  "  The  conditioned 
is  the  mean  between  two  extremes,  two  inconditionates  exclusive 
of  each  other,  neither  of  which  can  be  conceived  as  possible,  but  of 
which,  on  the  principle  of  Contradiction  and  Excluded  Middle, 
one  must  be  admitted  as  iiecessary^  It  is  scarcely  needful  to  ex- 
plain to  the  intelligent  reader  the  above  logical  principles ;  that 
they  may,  however,  be  clearly  before  the  mind  in  this  connec- 
tion, we  state  that  the  principle  of  Contradiction  is  this  :  "  A 
thing  can  not  at  the  same  time  be  and  not  be ;  A  is,  A  is  not, 
are  propositions  which  can  not  both  be  true  at  once."  The 
principle  of  Excluded  Middle  is  this :  "  A  thing  either  is  or  is 
not — A  either  is  or  is  not  B ;  there  is  no  mediumy^  Now,  to 
mention  the  law  of  Excluded  Middle  and  two  contradictories 
with  a  mean  between  them,  in  the  same  sentence,  is  really  as- 
tounding. "  If  the  two  contradictory  extremes  are  equally  in- 
cogitable,  yet  include  a  cogitable  mean,  why  insist  upon  the 
necessity  of  accepting  either  extreme  ?  This  necessity  of  ac- 
cepting one  of  the  contradictories  is  wholly  based  upon  the 

^  NortTi  American  Review,  October,  1864,  pp.  407,  408. 

"^  Hamilton's  "  Logic,"  pp.  58,  59  ;  "  Metaphysics,"  vol.  ii.  p.  368. 


252  CHltlSTIANITT  AND 

supposed  impossibility  of  a  mean  ;  if  a  mean  exists,  t/iaf  may 
be  true,  ajid  both  contradictories  together  false.  But  if  a  mean 
between  two  contradictories  be  both  impossible  and  absurd, 
Hamilton's  *  conditioned '  entirely  vanishes."^  If  both  contra- 
dictories are  equally  unknown  and  equally  unthinkable,  we  can 
not  discover  w/iy,  on  his  principles,  we  are  bound  to  believe 
eitAer. 

3.  The  whole  of  this  confusion  in  thought  and  expression 
results  from  the  habit  of  confounding  the  sensuous  imagination 
with  the  non-sensuous  reason,  and  the  consequent  co-ordina- 
tion of  an  imageable  conception  with  an  abstract  idea.  The 
objects  of  sense  and  the  sensuous  imagination  may  be  charac- 
terized as  extension,  limitation,  figure,  position,  etc.;  the  objects 
of  the  non-sensuous  reason  may  be  characterized  as  universal- 
ity, eternity,  infinity.  I  can  form  an  image  of  an  extended  and 
figured  object,  but  I  can  not  form  an  image  of  space,  time,  or 
God  j  neither,  indeed,  can  I  form  an  image  of  Goodness,  Jus- 
tice, or  Truth.  But  I  can  have  a  clear  and  precise  idea  of 
space,  and  time,  and  God,  as  I  can  of  Justice,  Goodness,  and 
Truth.  There  are  many  things  which  I  can  most  surely  htow 
that  I  can  not  possibly  comprehend^  if  to  comprehend  is  to  form 
a  mental  image  of  a  thing.  There  is  nothing  which  I  more 
certainly  know  than  that  space  is  infinite,  and  eternity  unbegin- 
ning  and  endless ;  but  I  can  not  comprehend  the  infinity  of 
space  or  the  illimitability  of  eternity.  I  know  that  God  is,  that 
he  is  a  being  of  infinite  perfection,  but  I  can  not  throw  my 
thoughts  around  and  comprehend  the  infinity  of  God. 

(iv.)  We  come,  lastly,  to  consider  the  position  of  the  Dogmatic 
77ieologia7is.^  In  their  zeal  to  demonstrate  the  necessity  of  Di- 
vine Revelation,  and  to  vindicate  for  it  the  honor  of  supplying 
to  us  all  our  knowledge  of  God,  they  assail  every  fundamental 
principle  of  reason,  often  by  the  very  weapons  which  are  sup- 

*  North  British  Review,  October,  1864,  pp.  415,  416. 

^  Ellis,  Leland,  Locke,  and  Horsley,  whose  writings  are  extensively 
quoted  in  Watson's  "  Institutes  of  Theology"  (reprinted  by  Carlton  &  Lan- 
ahan,  New  York). 


OBEEK  nilLOSOPJIY. 


253 


plied  by  an  Atheistical  philosophy.  As  a  succinct  presentation 
of  the  views  of  this  school,  we  select  the  ^^Theological  Institutes''' 
of  R.  Watson. 

I  St.  The  invalidity  of  "  the  principle  of  causality  "  is  asserted 
by  this  author.  "We  allow  that  the  argument  which  proves 
that  the  effects  with  which  we  are  surrounded  have  been  caused^ 
and  thus  leads  us  up  through  a  chain  of  subordinate  causes  to 
one  P'irst  Cause,  has  a  simplicity,  an  obviousness,  and  a  force 
which,  when  we  are  previously  furnished  with  the  idea  of  God, 
makes  it,  at  first  sight,  difficult  to  conceive  that  men,  under  any 
degree  of  cultivation,  should  be  inadequate  to  it ;  yet  if  ever 
the  human  mind  commenced  such  an  inquiry  at  all,  it  is  highly 
probable  that  it  would  rest  in  the  notion  of  an  eternal  succession 
of  causes  and  effects,  rather  than  acquire  the  ideas  of  creation,  in 
the  proper  sense,  and  of  a  Supreme  Creator."^  "  We  feel  that 
our  reason  rests  with  full  satisfaction  in  the  doctrine  that  all 
things  are  created  by  one  eternal  and  self-existent  Being ;  but 
the  Greek  philosophers  held  that  matter  was  eternally  co-exist- 
ent with  God.  This  was  the  opinion  of  Plato,  who  has  been 
called  the  Moses  of  philosophy."^ 

For  a  defense  of  "  the  principle  of  causality  "  we  must  refer 
the  reader  to  our  remarks  on  the  philosophy  of  Comte.  We 
shall  now  only  remark  on  one  or  two  peculiarities  in  the  above 
statement  which  betray  an  utter  misapprehension  of  the  nature 
of  the  argument.  We  need  scarcely  direct  attention  to  the  un- 
fortunate and,  indeed,  absurd  phrase,  "an  eternal  succession  of 
causes  and  effects."  An  "eternal  succession"  is  a  contradictio 
in  adjecto,  and  as  such  inconceivable  and  unthinkable.  No 
human  mind  can  "  rest "  in  any  such  thing,  because  an  eternal 
succession  is  no  rest  at  all.  All  "succession"  is  finite  and 
temporal,  capable  of  numeration,  and  therefore  can  not  be  eter- 
nal." Again,  in  attaining  the  conception  of  a  First  Cause  the 
human  mind  does  not  pass  up  "  through  a  chain  of  subordinate 
causes,"  either   definite   or  indefinite,  "  to  one  First  Cause." 

^  Watson's  "Institutes  of  Theology,"  vol.  i.  p.  273. 

^  Id,  ib.,  vol.  i.  p.  21.  ^  See  a7ite,  pp.  181,  182,  ch.  v. 


254  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

Let  us  re -state  the  principle  of  causality  as  a  universal  and 
necessary  law  of  thought,  ^^  All  phenomena  present  themselves  to 
us  as  the  expression  ^  power,  and  refer  us  to  a  causal  ground 
whence  they  issue."  That  "power"  is  intuitively  and  spontane- 
ously apprehended  by  the  human  mind  as  Supreme  and  Ulti- 
mate— "the  causal  ground"  is  a  personal  God.  All  the  phe- 
nomena of  nature  present  themselves  to  us  as  "effects,"  and  we 
know  nothing  of  "  subordinate  causes "  except  as  modes  of  the 
Divine  Efficiency.^  The  principle  of  causality  compels  us  to 
think  causation  behind  nature,  and  under  causation  to  think  of 
Volition.  "  Other  forces  we  have  no  sort  of  ground  for  believ- 
ing ;  or,  except  by  artifices  ot  abstraction,  even  power  of  con- 
ceiving. The  dynamic  idea  is  either  this  or  nothing ;  and  the 
logical  alternative  assuredly  is,  that  nature  is  either  a  mere 
Time-march  of  phenomena  or  an  expression  of  Mind."''  The 
true  doctrine  of  philosophy,  of  science,  and  of  revelation  is  not 
simply  that  God  did  create  "  in  the  beginning,"  but  that  he 
still  creates.  All  the  operations  of  Nature  are  the  operations 
of  the  Divine  Mind.  "  Thou  takest  away  their  breath,  they 
die,  and  return  to  their  dust.  Thou  sendest  forth  thy  spirit, 
they  are  created ;  and  thou  renewest  the  face  of  the  earth."' 

The  assertion  that  Plato  taught  "  the  eternity  of  matter," 
and  that  consequently  he  did  not  arrive  at  the  idea  of  a  Su- 
preme and  Ultimate  Cause,  is  incapable  of  proof.  The  term 
i/A.);=:  matter  does  not  occur  in  the  writings  of  Plato,  or,  indeed, 
of  any  of  his  predecessors,  and  is  peculiarly  Aristotelian.  The 
ground  of  the  world  of  sense  is  called  by  Plato  "  the  recepta- 
cle "  (v7rohx>j)j  **the  nurse"  {ndnvr])  of  all  that  is  produced, 
and  was  apparently  identified,  in  his  mind,  w'lih.  pure  space — a 
logical  rather  than  a  physical  entity — the  mere  negative  con- 
dition and  medium  of  Divine  manifestation.  He  never  regards 
it  as  a  "  cause,"  or  ascribes  to  it  any  efficiency.     We  grant  that 

^  The  modern  doctrine  of  the  Correlation  and  Homogenity  of  all  Forces 
clearly  proves  that  they  are  not  many,  but  oite — '*  a  dynamic  self-identity 
masked  by  transmigration." — Martineau's  "  Essays,"  pp.  134-144. 

"^  Martineau's  "  Essays,"  pp.  140,  141.  ^  Psalm  civ. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


255 


he  places  this  Very  indefinite  something  {oiroiovovv  n)  out  of  the 
sphere  of  temporal  origination ;  but  it  must  be  borne  in  mind 
that  he  speaks  of  "creation  in  eternity"  as  well  as  of  "creation 
in  time;"  and  of  time  itself,  though  created,  as  "an  eternal 
image  of  the  generating  Father."*  This  one  thing,  at  any  rate, 
can  not  be  denied,  that  Plato  recognizes  creation  in  its  fullest 
sense  as  the  act  of  God. 

The  admission  that  something  has  always  existed  besides  the 
Deity,  as  a  mere  logical  condition  of  the  exercise  of  divine  pow- 
er {e.g.,  space),  would  not  invalidate  the  argument  for  the  exist- 
ence of  God.  The  proof  of  the  Divine  Existence,  as  Chalmers 
has  shown,  does  not  rest  on  the  existence  of  matter,  but  on  the 
orderly  arrangement  of  matter ;  and  the  grand  question  of  The- 
ism is  not  whether  the  matter  of  the  world,  but  whether  the/r^^- 
ent  order  of  the  world  had  a  commencement.* 

2d.  Doubt  is  cast  by  our  author  upon  the  validity  of  "  the 
principle  of  the  Unconditioned  or  the  Infinite J^  "  Supposing  it 
were  conceded  that  some  faint  glimmering  of  this  great  truth 
[the  existence  of  a  First  Cause]  might,  by  induction,  have  been 
discovered  by  contemplative  minds,  by  what  means  could  they 
have  demonstrated  to  themselves  that  he  is  eternal,  self-existent, 
immortal,  and  independent  ?"^  "  Between  things  visible  and  in- 
visible, time  and  eternity,  beings  finite  and  beings  infinite,  ob- 
jects of  sense  and  objects  of  faith,  the  connection  is  not  percepti- 
ble to  human  observation.  Though  we  push  our  researches, 
therefore,  to  the  extreme  point  whither  the  light  of  nature  can 
carry  us,  they  will  in  the  end  be  abruptly  terminated,  and  we 
must  stop  short  at  an  immeasurable  distance  between  the 
creature  and  the  Creator."* 

To  this  assertion  that  the  connection  of  things  visible  and 
things  invisible,  finite  and  infinite,  objects  of  sense  and  objects 
of  faith,  is  utterly  imperceptible  to  human  thought,  we  might  re- 

^  Plato,  "  Timasus,"  §  xiv. 

^  Chalmers's  "  Natural  Theology,"  bk.  i.  ch.  v. ;  also  Mahan's  "  Natural 
Theology,"  pp.  21-23. 

^  Watson's  "  Institutes  of  Theol.,"  vol.  i.  p.  274.       *  Id.,  ib.,  vol.  i.  p.  273. 


256  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

ply  by  quoting  the  words  of  that  Sacred  Book  whose  supreme 
authority  our  author  is  seeking,  by  this  argument,  to  establish. 
"  The  invisible  things  of  God,  even  his  eternal  power  and  god- 
head, from  the  creation,  are  clearly  seen,  being  understood  by  the 
things  which  are  made^  We  may  also  point  to  the  fact  that  in 
every  age  and  in  every  land  the  human  mind  has  spontaneously 
and  instinctively  recognized  the  existence  of  an  invisible  Power 
and  Presence  pervading  nature  and  controlling  the  destinies  of 
man,  and  that  religious  worship — prayer,  and  praise,  and  sacri- 
fice— offered  to  that  unseen  yet  omnipresent  Power  is  an  uni- 
versal fact  of  human  nature.  The  recognition  of  an  immediate 
and  a  7iecessary  "  connection "  between  the  visible  and  the  in- 
visible, the  objects. of  sense  and  the  objects  of  faith,  is  one  of 
the  most  obvious  facts  of  consciousness — of  universal  con- 
sciousness as  revealed  in  history,  and  of  individual  conscious- 
ness as  developed  in  every  rational  mind. 

That  this  connection  is  "  not  perceptible  to  human  observa- 
tion," if  by  this  our  author  means  "  not  perceptible  to  sense," 
we  readily  admit.  No  one  ever  asserted  it  was  perceptible  to 
human  observation.  We  say  that  this  connection  is  percepti- 
ble to  human  reason,  and  is  revealed  in  every  attempt  to  think 
about,  and  seek  an  explanation  of,  the  phenomenal  world. 
The  Phenomenal  and  the  Real,  Genesis  and  Being,  Space  and 
Extension,  Succession  and  Duration,  Time  and  Eternity,  the 
Finite  and  the  Infinite,  are  correlatives  which  are  given  in  one 
and  the  same  indivisible  act  of  thought.  "  The  conception  of 
one  term  of  a  relation  necessarily  implies  that  of  the  other ;  it 
being  the  very  nature  of  a  correlative  to  be  thinkable  only 
through  the  conjunct  thought  of  its  correlative ;  for  a  relation 
is,  in  truth,  a  thought  one  and  indivisible  \  and  whilst  the 
thinking  of  one  relation  necessarily  involves  the  thought  of  its 
two  terms,  so  it  is,  with  equal  necessity,  itself  involved  in  the 
thought  of  either."^  Finite,  dependent,  contingent,  temporal 
existence,  therefore,  necessarily  supposes  infinite,  self-existent, 
independent,  eternal  Being ;  the  Conditioned  and  Relative  im- 
*  Hamilton's  "Metaphysics,"  vol.  ii.  pp.  536,  537. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


257 


plies  the  Unconditioned  and  Absolute — one  is  known  only  in 
and  through  the  other.  But  inasmuch  as  the  unconditioned  is 
cognized  solely  d  priori^  and  the  conditioned  solely  d  posteriori, 
the  recognition  by  the  human  mind  of  their  necessary  correla- 
tion becomes  the  bridge  whereby  the  chasm  between  the  sub- 
jective and  the  objective  may  be  spanned,  and  whereby  Thought 
may  be  brought  face  to  face  with  Existence. 

The  reverence  which,  from  boyhood,  we  have  entertained 
for  the  distinguished  author  of  the  "Institutes"  restrains  us 
from  speaking  in  adequate  terms  of  reprobation  of  the  state- 
ment that  "  the  First  Cause "  may  be  known,  and  yet  not  con- 
ceived "as  eternal,  self-existent,  immortal,  and  independent." 
Surely  that  which  is  the  ground  and  reason  of  all  existence 
must  have  the  ground  and  reason  of  its  own  existence  in  itself. 
That  which  vs,  first  in  the  order  of  existence,  and  in  the  logical 
order  of  thought,  can  have  nothing  prior  to  itself.  If  the  sup- 
posed First  Cause  is  not  necessarily  self-existent  and  independ- 
ent, it  is  not  ih^  first;  if  it  has  a  dependent  existence,  there 
must  be  a  prior  being  on  which  it  depends.  If  the  First  Cause 
is  not  eternal,  then  prior  to  this  Ultimate  Cause  there  was 
nothingness  and  vacuity,  and  pure  nothing,  by  its  own  act,  be- 
came something.  But  ''^Ex  iiihilo  nihiP^  is  a  universal  law  of 
thought.  To  ask  the  question  whether  the  First  Cause  be  self- 
existent  and  eternal,  is,  in  effect,  to  ask  the  question  "  who 
made  God  ?"  and  this  is  not  the  question  of  an  adult  theo- 
logian, but  of  a  little  child.  Surely  Mr.  Watson  must  have 
penned  the  above  passage  without  any  reflection  on  its  real 
import.^ 

*  In  an  article  on  "  the  Impending  Revolution  in  Anglo-Saxon  Theology" 
(Methodist  Quarterly  Review,  July,  1863),  Dr.  Warren  seems  to  take  it  for 
granted  that  the  "  aiteological "  and  "  teleological "  arguments  for  the  exist- 
ence of  God  are  utterly  invalidated  by  the  Dynamical  theory  of  matter. 
"  Once  admit  that  real  power  can  and  does  reside  in  matter,  and  all  these 
reasonings  fail.  If  inherent  forces  of  matter  are  competent  to  the  produc- 
tion of  all  the  innumerable  miracles  of  movement  in  the  natural  world,  what 
is  there  in  the  natural  world  which  they  can  not  produce.  If  all  the  exer- 
tions of  power  in  the  universe  can  be  accounted  for  without  resort  to  some- 
thing back  of,  and  superior  to,  nature,  what  is  there  which  can  force  the  mind 

17 


258  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

3d.  Th^vzWdaiy  oi  "  the  principle  of  unity"  is  also  discredited 
by  Watson.  "  If,  however,  it  were  conceded  that  some  glim- 
merings of  this   great  truth,  the   existence  of  a  First  Cause, 

to  such  a  resort  ?"  (p.  463).  "  Having  granted  that  power,  or  self -activity,  is 
a  natural  attribute  of  all  matter,  what  right  have  we  to  deny  it  mtelligence  V 
(p.  465).     ^' Self -moving  matter  must  have  thought  and  design  "  (p.  469). 

It  is  not  our  intention  to  offer  an  extended  criticism  of  the  above  posi- 
tions in  this  note.  We  shall  discuss  "the  Dynamical  theory"  more  fully  in 
a  subsequent  work.  If  the  theory  apparently  accepted  by  Dr.  Warren  be 
true,  that  ^^  the  idtimate  atoms  of  matter  are  as  uniformly  efficient  as  minds, 
and  that  we  have  the  same  ground  to  regard  the  force  exerted  by  the  one 
innate  and  natural  as  that  exerted  by  the  other"  (p.  464),  then  we  grant  that 
the  conclusions  of  Dr.  Warren,  as  above  stated,  are  unavoidable.  We  pro- 
ceed one  step  farther,  and  boldly  assert  that  the  existence  of  God  is,  on  this 
hypothesis,  incapable  of  proof,  and  the  only  logical  position  Dr.  Warren  can 
occupy  is  that  of  spiritualistic  Pantheism. 

Dr.  Warren  asserts  that  "the  Dynamical  theory  of  matter"  is  now  gene- 
rally accepted  by  ''Anglo-Saxon  naturalists.''^  "  One  can  scarcely  open  a  sci- 
entific treatise  without  observing  the  altered  stand-point"  (p.  160).  We  con- 
fess that  we  are  disappointed  with  Dr.  Warren's  treatment  of  this  simple  ques- 
tion of  fact.  On  so  fundamental  an  issue,  the  Doctor  ought  to  have  given 
the  name  of  at  least  one  "naturalist"  who  asserts  that  "the  ultimate  atoms 
of  matter  are  as  uniformly  efficient  as  minds."  Leibnitz,  Morrell,  Ulrici, 
Hickok,  the  authorities  quoted  by  him,  are  metaphysicians  and  idealists  of 
the  extremest  school.  At  present  we  shall,  therefore,  content  ourselves  with 
a  general  denial  of  this  wholesale  statement  of  Dr.  Warren ;  and  we  shall 
sustain  that  denial  by  a  selection  from  the  many  authorities  we  shall  here- 
after present.  "  No  particle  of  matter  possesses  within  itself  the  power  of 
changing  its  existing  state  of  motion  or  of  rest.  Matter  has  no  spontaneous 
power  either  of  rest  or  motion,  but  is  equally  susceptible  to  each  as  it  may 
be  acted  on  by  external  causes"  (Silliman's  "  Principles  of  Physics,"  p.  13). 
The  above  proposition  is  "  a  truth  on  which  the  whole  science  of  mechanical 
philosophy  ultimately  depends"  (Encyclopaedia  Britannica, art.  "Dynamics," 
vol.  viii.  p.  326).  "A  material  substance  existing  alone  in  the  universe  could 
not  produce  any  effects.  There  is  not,  so  far  as  we  know,  a  self-acting  mate- 
rial substance  in  the  universe''''  (M'Cosh,  **  Divine  Government,  Physical  and 
Moral,"  p.  78).  "  Perhaps  the  only  true  indication  of  matter  is  inertia.^'' 
"  The  cause  of  gravitation  is  not  resident  in  the  particles  of  matter  merely," 
but  also  "/«  all  space''''  (Dr.  Faraday  on  "Conservation  of  Force,"  in  "Cor- 
relation and  Conservation  of  Force,"  p.  368).  He  also  quotes  with  appro- 
bation the  words  of  Newton,  "  That  gravity  should  be  innate,  inherent,  and 
essential  to  matter,  is  so  great  an  absurdity,  that  I  believe  no  man  who  has 
in  philosophic  matters  a  competent  faculty  of  thinking  can  ever  fall  into  it" 
(p.  368).  '"The  'force  of  gravity'  is  an  improper  expression"  (p.  340). 
"  Forces  are  transformable,  indestructible,  and,  in  contradistinction  from 
matter,  imponderable"  (p.  346).  "The  first  cause  of  things  is  Deity"  (Dr. 
Mayer,  in  " Correlation  and  Conservation  of  Force,"  p.  341).     "Although 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


259 


might,  by  induction,  have  been  discovered,  by  what  means 
could  they  have  demonstrated  to  themselves  that  the  great  col- 
lection of  bodies  which  we  call  the  world  had  but  one  Creator."' 
We  might  answer  directly,  and  at  once,  that  the  oneness  or 
unity  of  God  is  necessarily  contained  in  "  the  very  notion  of  a 
First  Cause" — 2ijirst  cause  is  not  many  causes,  but  one.  By 
a  First  Cause  we  do  not,  however,  understand  the  first  of  a  nu- 
merical series,  but  an  apxn  —  a  principle,  itself  unbeginning, 
which  is  the  source  of  all  beginning.  Our  categorical  answer, 
therefore,  must  be  that  the  unity  of  God  is  a  sublime  deliver- 
ance of  reason — God  is  one  God.  It  is  a  first  principle  of 
reason  that  all  differentiation  and  plurality  supposes  an  incom- 
posite  unity,  all  diversity  implies  an  indivisible  identity.  The 
sensuous  perception  of  a  plurality  of  parts  supposes  the  rational 
idea  of  an  absolute  unity,  which  has  no  parts,  as  its  necessary 
correlative.  For  example,  extension  is  a  congeries  of  indefini- 
tesimal  parts ;  the  continuity  of  matter,  as  einpirically  known 
by  us,  is  never  absolute.  Space  is  absolutely  continuous,  in- 
capable of  division  into  integral  parts,  illimitable,  and,  as  ra- 
tionally known  by  us,  an  absolute  unity.  The  cognition  of 
limited  extension,  which  is  the  subject  of  quantitative  measure- 
ment, involves  the  conception  of  unlimited  space,  which  is  the 
negation  of  all  plurality  and  complexity  of  parts.  And  so  the 
cognition  of  a  phenomenal  universe  in  which  we  see  only  differ- 

the  word  cause  may  be  used  in  a  secondary  and  subordinate  sense,  as  mean- 
ing antecedent  forces,  yet  in  an  abstract  sense  it  is  totally  inapplicable ;  we 
can  not  predicate  of  any  physical  'agent  that  it  is  abstractedly  the  cause  of 
another"  (p.  15).  "Causation  is  the  w///,"  "creation  is  the  act,  of  God" 
(Grove  on  "Correlation  of  Physical  Forces,"  p.  199).  "Between  gravity 
and  motion  it  is  impossible  to  establish  the  equation  required  for  a  rightly- 
conceived  causal  relation"  ("Correlation  and  Conservation  of  Force,"  p. 
253).     See  also  Herschel's  "  Outlines  of  Astronomy,"  p.  234. 

It  certainly  must  have  required  a  wonderful  effort  of  imagination  on  the 
part  of  Dr.  Warren  to  transform  "weight"  and  "density,"  mere  passive 
affections  of  matter,  into  self-activity,  intelligence,  thought,  and  design. 
Weight  or  density  are  merely  relative  terms.  Supposing  one  particle  or 
mass  of  matter  to  exist  alone,  and  there  can  be  no  attractive  or  gravitating 
force.     There  must  be  a  cause  of  gravity  which  is  distinct  from  matter. 

^  "Institutes  of  Theology,"  vol.  i.  p.  275. 


26o  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

ence,  plurality,  and  change,  implies  the  existence  of  a  Being 
who  is  absolutely  unchangeable,  identical,  and  one. 

This  law  of  thought  lies  at  the  basis  of  that  universal  desire 
of  unity,  and  that  universal  effort  to  reduce  all  our  knowledge 
to  unity,  which  has  revealed  itself  in  the  history  of  philosophy, 
and  also  of  inductive  science.  "  Reason,  intellect,  vovq^  con- 
catenating thoughts  and  objects  into  system,  and  tending  up- 
ward from  particular  facts  to  general  laws,  from  general  laws 
to  universal  principles,  is  never  satisfied  in  its  ascent  till  it 
comprehends  all  laws  in  a  single  formula,  and  consummates  all 
conditional  knowledge  in  the  unity  of  unconditional  existence." 
"  The  history  of  philosophy  is  only  the  history  of  this  tendency, 
and  philosophers  have  borne  ample  testimony  to  its  reality. 
*  The  mind,'  says  Anaxagoras,  '  only  knows  when  it  subdues  its 
objects,  when  it  reduces  the  many  to  the  one.'  *  The  end  of 
philosophy,'  says  Plato,  *is  the  intuition  of  unity.'  *A11  knowl- 
edge,' say  the  Platonists,  *  is  the  gathering  up  into  one,  and  the 
indivisible  apprehension  of  this  unity  by  the  knowing  mind.'  "^ 

This  law  has  been  the  guiding  principle  of  the  Inductive 
Sciences,  and  has  led  to  some  of  its  most  important  discoveries. 
The  unity  which  has  been  attained  in  physical  science  is  not, 
however,  the  absolute  unity  of  a  material  substratum,  but  a 
unity  of  Will  and  of  Thought.  The  late  discovery  of  the  mon- 
ogenesis,  reciprocal  convertibility,  and  indestructibility  of  all 
Forces  in  nature,  leads  us  upward  towards  the  recognition  of 
one  Omnipresent  and  Omnipotent  AVill,  which,  like  a  mighty 
tide,  sweeps  through  the  universe*  and  effects  all  its  changes. 
The  universal  prevalence  of  the  same  physical  laws  and  numer- 
ical relations  throughout  all  space,  and  of  the  same  archetypal 
forms  and  teleology  of  organs  throughout  all  past  time,  reveals 
to  us  a  Unity  of  Thought  which  grasps  the  entire  details  of  the 
universe  in  one  comprehensive  plan.''     The  positive  d  priori 

^  Hamilton's  "  Metaphysics,"  vol.  i.  pp.  68,  69. 

^  We  refer  with  pleasure  to  the  articles  of  Dr.  Winchell,  in  the  North- 
western Christian  Advocate,  in  which  the  a  posteriori  proof  of ''the  Unity, 
of  God"  is  forcibly  exhibited,  and  take  occasion  to  express  the  hope  they 
will  soon  be  presented  to  the  public  in  a  more  permanent  form- 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  261 

intuitions  of  reason  and  the  d  posteriori  inductions  of  science 
equally  attest  that  God  is  one. 

4th.  By  denying  that  man  has  any  intuitive  cognitions  of 
right  and  wrong,  or  any  native  and  original  feeling  of  obliga- 
tion, Mr.  Watson  invalidates  "the  moral  argument"  for  the  ex- 
istence of  a  Righteous  God. 

"  As  far  as  man's  reason  has  applied  itself  to  the  discovery 
of  truth  or  ditty  it  has  generally  gone  astray.'"  "  Questions  of 
morals  do  not,  for  the  most  part,  lie  level  to  the  minds  of  the 
populace.'"'  "  Their  conclusions  have  no  authority,  and  place 
them  under  no  obligation."^  And,  indeed,  man  without  a  rev- 
elation "  is  without  moral  control,  without  principles  of  justice, 
except  such  as  may  be  slowly  elaborated  from  those  relations 
which  concern  the  grosser  interests  of  life,  without  conscience, 
without  hope  or  fear  in  another  life."* 

Now  we  shall  not  occupy  our  space  in  the  elaboration  of  the 
proposition  that  the  universal  consciousness  of  our  race,  as  re- 
vealed in  human  history,  languages,  legislations,  and  sentiments, 
bears  testimony  to  the  fact  that  the  ideas  of  right,  duty,  and  re- 
st)onsibility  are  native  to  the  human  mind;  we  shall  simply 
make  our  appeal  to  those  Sacred  Writings  whose  verdict  must 
be  final  with  all  theologians.  That  the  fundamental  principles 
of  the  moral  law  do  exist,  subjectively,  in  all  human  minds  is 
distinctly  affirmed  by  Paul,  in  a  passage  which  deserves  to  be 
regarded  as  the  chief  corner-stone  of  moral  science.  "  The 
Gentiles  (eGvi?,  heathen),  which  have  not  the  written  law,  do  by 
the  guidance  of  nature  (reason  or  conscience)  the  works  en- 
joined by  the  revealed  law ;  these,  having  no  written  law,  are 
a  law  unto  themselves  ;  who  show  plainly  the  works  of  the  law 
written  on  their  hearts,  their  conscience  bearing  witness,  and 
also  their  reasonings  one  with  another,  when  they  accuse,  or 
else  excuse,  each  other. "^  To  deny  this  is  to  relegate  the  hea- 
then from  all  responsibility.     For  Mr.  Watson  admits  "  that  the 

^  "  Institutes  of  Theology,"  vol.  ii.  p.  470.  *  Ibid,  vol.  i.  p.  15. 

*  Ibid.,  vol.  i.  p.  228.  •*  Ibid.,  vol.  ii.  p.  271. 

.  *  Romans,  ch.  ii.  ver.  14-16. 


262  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

will  of  a  superior  is  not  in  justice  binding  unless  it  be  in  some 
mode  sufficiently  declared."  Now  in  the  righteous  adjudg- 
ments of  revelation  the  heathen  are  "  without  excuse."  The  will 
of  God  must,  therefore,  be  "  sufficiently  declared  "  to  constitute 
them  accountable.  Who  will  presume  to  say  that  the  shadowy, 
uncertain,  variable,  easily  and  unavoidably  corrupted  medium 
of  tradition  running  through  forty  muddy  centuries  is  a  "  suffi- 
cient declaration  of  the  will  of  God  ?"  The  law  is  "  written  on 
the  heart "  of  every  man,  or  all  men  are  not  accountable. 

Now  this  "  law  written  within  the  heart "  immediately  and 
naturally  suggests  the  idea  of  a  Lawgiver  who  is  over  us. 
This  felt  presence  of  Conscience,  approving  or  condemning  our 
conduct,  suggests,  as  with  the  speed  of  the  lightning-flash,  the 
notion  of  a  Judge  who  will  finally  call  us  to  account.  This 
"  accusing  or  excusing  of  each  other,"  this  recognition  of  good 
or  ill  desert,  points  us  to,  and  constrains  u?  to  recognize,  a  fu- 
ture Retribution  ;  so  that  some  hope  or  fear  of  another  life  has 
been  in  all  ages  a  universal  phenomenon  of  humanity. 

It  is  affirmed,  however,  that  whilst  this  capacity  to  know 
God  may  have  been  an  original  endowment  of  human  nature, 
yet,  in  consequence  of  the  fall,  "  the  understanding  and  reason 
are  weakened  by  the  deterioration  of  his  whole  intellectual  na- 
ture."* "  Without  some  degree  of  education,  man  is  wholly  the 
creature  of  appetite.  Labor,  feasting,  and  sleeping  divide  his 
time,  and  wholly  occupy  his  thoughts."" 

We  reverently  and  believingly  accept  the  teaching  of  Scrip- 
ture as  to  the  depravity  of  man.  We  acknowledge  that  "  the 
understanding  is  darkened  "  by  sin.  At  the  same  time,  we 
earnestly  maintain  that  the  Scriptures  do  not  teach  that  the 
fundamental  laws  of  mind,  the  first  principles  of  reason,  are 
utterly  traversed  and  obliterated  by  sin,  so  that  man  is  not  able 
to  recognize  the  existence  of  God,  and  feel  his  obligation  to 
Him.  "  Though  they  (the  heathen)  ktiew  God  (^iotl  yyoyreg), 
they  did  not  glorify  him  as  God,  neither  were  thankful,  but  be- 
came vain  in  their  imagination,  and  their  foolish  hearts  were 

'  "  Institutes  of  Theology,"  vol.  i.  p.  15.  "  Ibid.,  vol.  i.  p.  271. 


OBEEK  PEILO SOPHY.  263 

darkened.  They  changed  the  truth  of  God  into  a  lie,  and  wor- 
shipped and  served  the  creature  more  than  the  Creator."  "And 
as  they  did  not  approve  of  holding  God  with  acknowledgment^  God 
delivered  them  over  to  an  unapproving  mind,  to  work  those 
things  which  are  not  suitable."  After  drawing  a  fearful  picture 
of  the  darkness  and  depravity  of  the  heathen,  the  Apostle  adds, 
"  Who,  though  they  know  the  law  of  God,  that  they  who  practise 
such  things  are  worthy  of  death,  not  only  do  them,  but  even  are 
well  pleased  with  those  who  practise  them."^  The  obvious  and 
direct  teaching  of  this  passage  is  that  the  heathen,  in  the  midst 
of  their  depravity  and  idolatry,  are  not  utterly  ignorant  of  God ; 
"  they  blow  God  " — "  they  know  the  law  of  God  " — "they  wor- 
ship Him,"  though  they  worship  the  creature  more  than  Him. 
They  know  God,  and  are  unwilling  to  "acknowledge  God." 
"  They  know  the  righteousness  of  God,"  and  are  "  haters  of 
God  "  on  account  of  his  purity ;  and  their  worshipping  of  idols 
does  not  proceed  from  ignorance  of  God,  from  an  intellectual 
inability  to  know  God,  but  from  "  corruption  of  heart,"  and  a 
voluntary  choice  of,  and  a  "  pleasure  "  in,  the  sinful  practices 
accompanying  idol  worship.  Therefore,  argues  the  Apostle, 
they  are  "  without  excuse."  The  whole  drift  and  aim  of  the 
argument  of  Paul  is,  not  to  show  that  the  heathen  were,  by 
their  depravity,  incapacitated  to  know  God,  but  that  because 
they  knew  God  and  knew  his  righteous  law,  therefore  their  de- 
pravity and  licentiousness  was  "  inexcusable." 

We  conclude  our  review  of  opposing  schools  by  the  re-affir- 
mation of  our  position,  that  God  is  cognizable  by  human  reason. 
The  human  mind,  under  the  guidance  of  necessary  laws  of 
thought,  is  able,  from  the  facts  of  the  universe,  to  affirm  the  ex- 
istence of  God,  and  to  attain  some  valid  knowledge  of  his  char- 
acter and  will.  Every  attempt  to  solve  the  great  problem  of 
existence,  to  offer  an  explanation  of  the  phenomenal  world,  or 
to  explore  the  fundamental  idea  of  reason,  when  fairly  and 
fully  conducted,  has  resulted  in  the  recognition  of  a  Supreme 
^  Romans,  ch.  i.  ver.  23-32. 


264  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

Intelligence^  a  personal  Mind  and  Willj  as  the  ground,  and  rea- 
son, and  cause  of  all  existence.  A  survey  of  the  history  of 
Greek  Philosophy  will  abundantly  sustain  this  position,  and  to 
this  we  shall,  in  subsequent  chapters,  invite  the  reader's  at- 
tention. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  265 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE    PHILOSOPHERS    OF    ATHENS. 
PRE-SOCRATIC  SCHOOL. 

SENSATIONAL  :    THALES  — ANAXIMENES  —  HERACLITUS  — ANAXIMANDER  — 
LEUCIPPUS  —  DEMOCRITUS. 

"  Then  certain  philosophers  of  the  Epicureans  and  of  the  Stoics  encoun- 
tered Paul." — Acts  xvii.  18. 

"  Plato  affirms  that  this  is  the  most  ^ust  cause  of  the  creation  of  the  world, 
that  works  which  are  good  should  be  wrought  by  the  God  who  is  good ; 
whether  he  had  read  these  things  in  the  Bible,  or  whether  by  his  penetrating 
genius  he  beheld  the  invisible  things  of  God  as  understood  by  the  things  which 
are  madeP — St.  Augustine,  "  De  Civ.  Dei,"  lib.  xi.  ch.  21. 

OF  all  the  monuments  of  the  greatness  of  Athens  which 
have  survived  the  changes  and  the  wastes  of  time,  the 
most  perfect  and  the  most  enduring  is  her  philosophy.  The 
Propylaea,  the  Parthenon,  and  the  Erechtheum,  those  peerless 
gems  of  Grecian  architecture,  are  now  in  ruins.  The  magnifi- 
cent sculpture  of  Phidias,  which  adorned  the  pediment,  and 
outer  cornice,  and  inner  frieze  of  these  temples,  and  the  unri- 
valled statuary  of  gods  and  heroes  which  crowded  the  platform 
of  the  Acropolis,  making  it  an  earthly  Olympus,  are  now  no 
more,  save  a  few  broken  fragments  which  have  been  carried  to 
other  lands,  and,  in  their  exile,  tell  the  mournful  story  of  the 
departed  grandeur  of  their  ancient  home.  The  brazen  statue 
of  Minerva,  cast  from  the  spoils  of  Marathon,  which  rose  in 
giant  grandeur  above  the  ^buildings  of  the  Acropolis,  and  the 
flashing  of  whose  helmet  plumes  was  seen  by  the  mariner  as 
soon  as  he  had  rounded  the  Sunian  promontory ;  and  that  other 
brazen  Pallas,  called,  by  pre-eminence,  "  the  Beautiful ;"  and 
the  enormous  Colossus  of  ivory  and  of  -gold,  "  the  Immortal 
Maid  " — the  protecting  goddess  of  the  Parthenon — these  have 


266  ORR IS TIA NIT  Y  AND 

perished.  But  whilst  the  fingers  of  time  have  crumbled  the 
Pentelic  marble,  and  the  glorious  statuary  has  been  broken  to 
pieces  by  vandal  hands,  and  the  gold  and  brass  have  been 
melted  in  the  crucibles  of  needy  monarchs  and  converted  into 
vulgar  money,  the  philosophic  thought  of  Athens,  which  culmi- 
nated in  the  dialectic  of  Plato,  still  survives.  Not  one  of  all 
the  vessels,  freighted  with  immortal  thought,  which  Plato 
launched  upon  the  stream  of  time,  has  foundered.  And  after 
the  vast  critical  movement  of  European  thought  during  the 
past  two  centuries,  in  which  all  philosophic  systems  have  been 
subjected  to  the  severest  scrutiny,  the  method  of  Plato  still  pre- 
serves, if  not  its  exclusive  authority  unquestioned,  at  least  its 
intellectual  pre-eminence  unshaken.  "Platonism  is  immortal, 
because  its  principles  are  immortal  in  the  human  intellect  and 
heart.'" 

Philosophy  is,  then,  the  world-enduring  monument  of  the 
greatness  and  the  glory  of  Athens.  Whilst  Greece  will  be  for- 
ever memorable  as  "  the  country  of  wisdom  and  of  wise  men," 
Athens  will  always  be  pre-eminently  memorable  as  the  Univer- , 
sity  of  Greece.  This  was  the  home  of  Socrates,  and  Plato,  and 
Aristotle — the  three  imperial  names  which,  for  twenty  centuries, 
reigned  supreme  in  the  world  of  philosophic  thought.  Here 
schools  of  philosophy  were  founded  to  which  students  were  at- 
tracted from  every  part  of  the  civilized  world,  and  by  which  an 
impulse  and  a  direction  was  given  to  human  thought  in  every 
land  and  in  every  age.  Standing  on  the  Acropolis  at  Athens, 
and  looking  over  the  city  and  the  open  country,  the  Apostle 
would  see  these  places  which  are  inseparably  associated  with  the 
names  of  the  men  who  have  always  been  recognized  as  the  great 
teachers  of  the  pagan  world,  and  who  have  also  exerted  a  pow- 
erful influence  upon  Christian  minds  bf  every  age.  "  In  opposite 
directions  he  would  see  the  suburbs  where  Plato  and  Aristotle, 
the  two  pupils  of  Socrates,  held  their  illustrious  schools.  The 
streamless  bed  of  the  Ilissus  passes  between  the  Acropolis  and 
Hymettus  in  a  south-westerly  direction,  until  it  vanishes  in  the 
^  Butler's  "  Lectures  on  Ancient  Philosophy,"  vol.  ii.  p.  9. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  267 

low  ground  which  separates  the  city  from  the  Piraeus."  Look- 
ing towards  the  upper  part  of  this  channel,  Paul  would  see 
gardens  of  plane-trees  and  thickets  of  angus-castus,  "with  other 
torrent-loving  shrubs  of  Greece."  Near  the  base  of  Lycabettus 
was  a  sacred  inclosure  which  Pericles  had  ornamented  with 
fountains.  Here  stood  a  statue  of  Apollo  Lycius,  which  gave 
the  name  to  the  Lyceum.  Here,  among  the  plane-trees,  Aris- 
totle walked,  and,  as  he  walked,  taught  his  disciples.  Plence 
the  name  Peripatetics  (the  Walkers),  which  has  always  desig- 
nated the  disciples  of  the  Stagirite  philosopher. 

On  the  opposite  side  of  the  city,  the  most  beautiful  of  the 
Athenian  suburbs,  we  have  the  scene  of  Plato's  teaching.  Be- 
yond the  outer  Ceramicus,  which  was  crowded  with  the  sepul- 
chres of  those  Athenians  who  had  fallen  in  battle,  and  were 
buried  at  the  public  expense,  the  eye  of  Paul  would  rest  on  the 
favored  stream  of  the  Cephisus,  flowing  towards  the  west.  On 
the  banks  of  this  stream  the  Academy  was  situated.  A  wall, 
built  at  great  expense  by  Hipparchus,  surrounded  it,  and  Cimon 
planted  long  avenues  of  trees  and  erected  fountains.  Beneath 
the  plane-trees  which  shaded  the  numerous  walks  there  assem- 
bled the  master-spirits  of  the  age.  This  was  the  favorite  resort 
of  poets  and  philosophers.  Here  the  divine  spirit  of  Plato 
poured  forth  its  sublimest  speculations  in  streams  of  matchless 
eloquence ;  and  here  he  founded  a  school  which  was  destined 
to  exert  a  powerful  and  perennial  influence  on  human  minds 
and  hearts  in  all  coming  time. 

Looking  down  from  the  Acropolis  upon  the  Agora,  Paul 
would  distinguish  a  cloister  or  colonnade.  This  is  the  Stoa 
Pcecile,  or  "  Painted  Porch,"  so  called  because  its  walls  were 
decorated  with  fresco  paintings  of  the  legendary  wars  of  Greece, 
and  the  more  glorious  struggle  at  Marathon.  It  was  here  that 
Zeno  first  opened  that  celebrated  school  which  thence  received 
the  name  of  Stoic.  _  The  site  of  the  garden  where  Epicurus 
taught  is  now  unknown.  It  was  no  doubt  within  the  city  walls, 
and  not  far  distant  from  the  Agora.  It  was  well  known  in  the 
time  of  Cicero,  who  visited  Athens  as  a  student  little  more  than 


268  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

a  century  before  the  Apostle.  It  could  not  have  been  forgotten 
in  the  time  of  Paul.  In  this  "  tranquil  garden,"  in  the  society 
of  his  friends,  Epicurus  passed  a  life  of  speculation  and  of  pleas- 
ure.    His  disciples  were  called,  after  him,  the  Epicureans.^ 

Here,  then,  in  Athens  the  Apostle  was  brought  into  imme- 
diate contact  with  all  the  phases  of  philosophic  thought  which 
had  appeared  in  the  ancient  world.  "Amongst  those  who 
sauntered  beneath  the  cool  shadows  of  the  plane-trees  in  the 
Agora,  and  gathered  in  knots  under  the  porticoes,  eagerly  dis- 
cussing the  questions  of  the  day,  were  the  philosophers,  in  the 
garb  of  their  several  sects,  ready  for  any  new  question  on  which 
they  might  exercise  their  subtlety  or  display  their  rhetoric." 
If  there  were  any  in  that  motley  group  who  cherished  the  prin- 
ciples and  retained  the  spirit  of  the  true  Platonic  school,  we 
may  presume  they  felt  an  inward  intellectual  sympathy  with  the 
doctrine  enounced  by  Paul.  With  Plato,  "  philosophy  was  only 
another  name  for  religion :  philosophy  is  the  love  of  perfect 
Wisdom  ;  perfect  Wisdom  and  perfect  Goodness  are  identical : 
the  perfect  Good  is  God  himself;  philosophy  is  the  love  of 
God."^  He  confessed  the  need  of  divine  assistance  to  attain 
"  the  good,"  and  of  divine  interposition  to  deliver  men  from 
moral  ruin.^  Like  Socrates,  he  longed  for  a  supernatural — a 
divine  light  to  guide  him,  and  he  acknowledged  his  need  there- 
of continually."  He  was  one  of  those  who,  in  heathen  lands, 
waited  for  "  the  desire  of  nations ;"  and,  had  he  lived  in  Chris- 
tian times,  no  doubt  his  "spirit  of  faith"  would  have  joyfully 
"  embraced  the  Saviour  in  all  the  completeness  of  his  revelation 
and  advent."^  And  in  so  far  as  the  spirit  of  Plato  surviveci 
among  his  disciples,  we  may  be  sure  they  were  not  among  the 

'  See  Conybeare  and  Howson's  "  Life  and  Epistles  of  St.  Paul,"  vol.  i. ; 
Lewes's  "Biographical  History  of  Philosophy;"  and  Encyclopaedia  Britan- 
nica,  article,  "  Athens,"  from  whence  our  materials  for  the  description  of 
these  **  places  "  are  mainly  derived. 

^  Butler's  "  Lectures  on  Ancient  Philosophy,"  vol.  ii.  p.  6i. 

®  "  Republic,"  bk.  vi.  ch.  vi.  vii.  *  Butler's  "  Lectures,"  vol.  i.  p.  362. 

^  Wheedon  on  "  The  Will,"  p.  352 ;  also  Butler's  "  Lectures,"  vol.  ii.  p. 
252. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  269 

number  who  "  mocked,"  and  ridiculed,  and  opposed  the  "  new 
doctrine  "  proclaimed  by  Paul.  It  was  "  the  philosophers  of 
the  Epicureans  and  of  the  Stoics  who  encountered  Paul."  The 
leading  tenets  of  both  these  sects  were  diametrically  opposed 
to  the  doctrines  of  Christianity.  The  ruling  spirit  of  each  was 
alien  from  the  spirit  of  Christ.  The  haughty /n^(f  of  the  Stoic, 
the  Epicurean  abandonment  to  pleasure^  placed  them  in  direct 
antagonism  to  him  who  proclaimed  the  crucified  and  risen 
Christ  to  be  ''''the  wisdom  of  God." 

If,  however,  we  would  justly  appreciate  the  relation  of  pagan 
philosophy  to  Christian  truth,  we  must  note  that,  when  Paul  ar- 
rived in  Athens,  the  age  of  Athenian  glory  had  passed  away. 
Not  only  had  her  national  greatness  waned,  and  her  national 
spirit  degenerated,  but  her  intellectual  power  exhibited  unmis- 
takable signs  of  exhaustion,  and  weakness,  and  decay.  If  phi- 
,  losophy  had  borne  any  fruit,  of  course  that  fruit  remained.  If, 
in  the  palmy  days  of  Athenian  greatness,  any  field  of  human 
inquiry  had  been  successfully  explored;  if  human  reason  had 
achieved  any  conquests ;  if  any  thing  true  and  good  had  been 
obtained,  that  must  endure  as  an  heir-loom  for  all  coming  time ; 
and  if  those  centuries  of  agonizing  wrestlings  with  nature,  and 
of  ceaseless  questioning  of  the  human  heart,  had  yielded  no 
results,  then,  at  least,  the  lesson  of  their  failure  and  defeat  re- 
mained for  the  instruction  of  future  generations.  Either  the 
problems  they  sought  to  solve  were  proved  to  be  insoluble,  or 
their  methods  of  solution  were  found  to  be  inadequate ;  for 
here  the  mightiest  minds  had  grappled  with  the  great  problems 
of  being  and  of  destiny.  Here  vigorous  intellects  had  strug- 
gled to  pierce  the  darkness  which  hangs  alike  over  the  begin- 
ning and  the  end  of  human  existence.  Here  profoundly  ear- 
nest men  had  questioned  nature,  reason,  antiquity,  oracles,  in  the 
hope  they  might  l-earn  something  of  that  invisible  world  of  real 
being  which  they  instinctively  felt  must  lie  beneath  the  world 
of  fleeting  forms  and  ever-changing  appearances.  Here  phi- 
losophy had  directed  her  course  towards  every  point  in  the 
compass  of  thought,  and  touched  every  accessible  point.     The 


2  70  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

sun  of  human  reason  had  reached  its  zenith,  and  illuminated 
every  field  that  lay  within  the  reach  of  human  ken.  And  this 
sublime  era  of  Greek  philosophy  is  of  inestimable  value  to  us 
who  live  in  Christian  times,  because  //  is  an  exhaustive  effort  of 
hu7?ian  reason  to  solve  the  problem  of  beings  and  in  its  history  we 
have  a  record  of  the  power  and  weakness  of  the  human  mind, 
at  once  on  the  grandest  scale  and  in  the  fairest  characters.^ 

These  preliminary  considerations  will  have  prepared  the  way 
for,  and  awakened  in  our  minds  a  profound  interest  in,  the  in- 
quiry— I  St.  What  permanent  results  has  Greek  philosophy  be- 
queathed to  the  world?  2d.  In  what  manner  did  Greek  philos- 
ophy fulfill  for  Christianity  2.  propccdeutic  office  ? 

It  will  at  once  be  obvious,  even  to  those  who  are  least  con- 
versant with  our  theme,  that  it  would  be  fruitless  to  attempt 
the  answer  to  these  important  questions  before  we  have  made 
a  careful  survey  of  the  entire  history  of  philosophic  thought  in 
Greece.  We  must  have  a  clear  and  definite  conception  of  the 
problems  they  sought  to  solve,  and  we  must  comprehend  their 
methods  of  inquiry,  before  we  can  hope  to  appreciate  the  re- 
sults they  reached,  or  determine  whether  they  did  arrive  at  any 
definite  and  valuable  conclusions.  It  will,  therefore,  devolve 
upon  us  to  present  a  brief  and  yet  comprehensive  epitome  of 
the  history  of  Grecian  speculative  thought. 

^^ Philosophy y^  says  Cousin,  "/j-  reflection,  and  nothing  else 
than  reflection,  in  a  vast  form  " — "  Reflection  elevated  to  the 
rank  and  authority  of  a  7nethod"  It  is  the  mind  looking  back 
upon  its  own  sensations,  perceptions,  cognitions,  ideas,  and 
from  thence  to  the  causes  of  these  sensations,  cognitions,  and 
ideas.  It  is  thought  passing  beyond  the  simple  perceptions  of 
things,  beyond  the  mere  spontaneous  operations  of  the  mind  in 
the  cognition  of  things,  to  seek  the  ground,  and  reason,  and  law 
of  things.  It  is  the  effort  of  reason  to  solve  the  great  problem 
of  "  Being  and  Becoming,"  of  appearance  and  reality,  of  the 
changeful  and  the  permanent.  Beneath  the  endless  diversity 
of  the  universe;  of  existence  and  action,  there  must  be  a  princi- 
^  See  article  "Philosophy,"  in  Smith's  "Dictionary  of  the  Bible." 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  271 

pie  of  unity ;  below  all  fleeting  appearances  there  must  be  a 
permanent  substance ;  beyond  this  everlasting  flow  and  change, 
this  beginning  and  ending  of  finite  existence,  there  must  be  an 
eternal  beings  the  source  and  cause  of  all  we  see  and  know. 
What  is  that  principle  of  unity,  that  permanent  substance,  or  prin- 
ciple, or  being  ? 

This  fundamental  question  has  assumed  three  separate 
forms  or  aspects  in  the  history  of  philosophy.  These  forms 
have  been  determined  by  the  objective  phenomena  which  most 
immediately  arrested  and  engaged  the  attention  of  men.  If 
external  nature  has  been  the  chief  object  of  attention,  then  the 
problem  of  philosophy  has  been,  What  is  the  upxv  —  the  begin- 
ning; what  are  the  first  principles — the  elements  from  which,  the 
ideas  or  laws  according  to  which,  the  efficient  cause  or  energy  by 
which,  and  the  reason  or  end  for  which  the  universe  exists  ?  Dur- 
ing this  period  reflective  thought  was  a  Philosophy  of  Nature. 
If  the  phenomena  of  mind — the  opinions,  beliefs,  judgments  of 
men — are  the  chief  object  of  attention,  then  the  problem  of 
philosophy  has  been,  What  are  the  fundamental  Ideas  which  are 
unchangeable  and  permanent  amid  all  the  diversities  of  human 
opinions,  conftecting  appearance  with  reality,  and  constituting  a 
ground  of  certain  knowledge  or  absolute  truth  1  Reflective 
thought  is  now  a  Philosophy  of  Ideas.  Then,  lastly,  if  the  prac- 
tical activities  of  life  and  the  means  of  well-being  be  the  grand 
object  of  attention,  then  the  problem  of  philosophy  has  been, 
What  is  the  ultimate  standard  by  which,  amid  all  the  diversities 
of  human  conduct,  we  7nay  determine  what  is  right  and  good  in  in- 
dividual, social,  and  political  life 'i  And  now  reflective  thought 
is  a  Philosophy  of  Life.  These  are  the  grand  problems  with 
which  philosophy  has  grappled  ever  since  the  dawn  of  reflec- 
tion. They  all  appear  in  Greek  philosophy,  and  have  a  marked 
chronology.  As  systems  they  succeed  each  other,  just  as  rig- 
orously as  the  phenomena  of  Greek  civilization. 

The  Greek  schools  of  philosophy  have  been  classified  from 
various  points  of  view.     In  view  of  their  geographical  relations, 


2  72  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

they  have  been  divided  into  the  .Ionian^  the  Italian,  the  Eleatic, 
the  Athenian,  and  the  Alexandrian.  In  view  of  their  prevaiUng 
spirit  and  tendency,  they  have  been  classified  by  Cousin  as  the 
Sensational,  the  Idealistic,  the  Skeptical,  and  the  Mystical. 
The  most  natural  and  obvious  method  is  that  which  (regarding 
Socrates  as  the  father  of  Greek  philosophy  in  the  truest  sense) 
arranges  all  schools  from  the  Socratic  stand-point,  and  there- 
fore in  the  chronological  order  of  development  : 
I.  The  pre-Socratic  Schools. 
II.  The  Socratic  Schools. 

III.  The  post-Socratic  Schools. 

The  history  of  philosophy  is  thus  divided  into  three  grand 
epochs.  The  first  reaching  from  Thales  to  the  time  of  Socrates 
(B.C.  639-469);  the  second  from  the  birth  of  Socrates  to  the 
death  of  Aristotle  (b.c.  469-322);  the  third  from  the  death  of 
Aristotle  to  the  Christian  era  (b.c.  322,  a.d.  i).  Greek  philos- 
ophy during  the  first  jDcriod  was  almost  exclusively  a  philoso- 
phy of  nature ;  during  the  second  period,  a  philosophy  of  mind ; 
during  the  last  period,  a  philosophy  of  life.  Nature,  man,  and 
society  complete  the  circle  of  thought.  Successive  systems,  of 
course,  overlap  each  other,  both  in  the  order  of  time  and  as 
subjects  of  human  speculation ;  and  the  results  of  one  epoch 
of  thought  are  transmitted  to  and  appropriated  by  another ; 
but,  in  a  general  sense,  the  order  of  succession  has  been  very 
much  as  here  indicated.  Setting  aside  minor  schools  and 
merely  incidental  discussions,  and  fixing  our  attention  on  the 
general  aspects  of  each  historic  period,  we  shall  discover  that 
the  first  period  was  eminently  Physical,  the  second  Psychologi- 
cal, the  last  Ethical.  Every  stage  of  progress  which  reason,  on  * 
il  priori  grounds,  would  suggest  as  the  natural  order  of  thought, 
or  of  which  the  development  of  an  individual  mind  would  fur- 
nish an  analogy,  had  a  corresponding  realization  in  the  devel- 
opment of  Grecian  thought  from  the  time  of  Thales  to  the 
Christian  era.  "  Thought,"  says  Cousin,  "  in  the  first  trial  of 
its  strength  is  drawn  without."  The  first  object  which  engages 
the  attention  of  the  child  is  the  outer  world.     He  asks  the 


GREEK  FHILOSOPHY. 


273 


"how^^  and  "why^^  of  all  he  sees.  His  reason  urges  him  to 
seek  an  explanation  of  the  universe.  So  it  was  in  the  child- 
hood of  philosophy.  The  first  essays  of  human  thought  were, 
almost  without  exception,  discourses  Trept  </)i/o-£wc  (De  rerum  na- 
tura),  of  the  nature  of  things.  Then  the  rebound  of  baffled 
reason  from  the  impenetrable  bulwarks  of  the  universe  drove 
the  mind  back  upon  itself.  If  the  youth  can  not  interpret 
nature,  he  can  at  least  "  know  himself,"  and  find  within  him- 
self the  ground  and  reason  of  all  existence.  There  are  '"Hdeas^^ 
in  the  human  mind  which  are  copies  of  those  '■''archetypal  ideas'' 
which  dwell  in  the  Creative  Mind,  and  after  which  the  universe 
was  built.  If  by  "analysis"  and  "definition"  these  universal 
notions  can  be  distinguished  from  that  which  is  particular  and 
contingent  in  the  aggregate  of  human  knowledge,  then  so  much 
of  eternal  truth  has  been  attained.  The  achievements  of  phil- 
osophic thought  in  this  direction,  during  the  Socratic  age,  have 
marked  it  as  the  most  brilliant  period  in  the  history  of  philos- 
ophy— the  period  of  its  youthful  vigor.  Deeply  immersed  in 
the  practical  concerns  and  conflicts  of  public  life,  mafihood  is 
mainly  occupied  with  questions  of  personal  duty,  and  indivi- 
dual and  social  well-being.  And  so,  during  the  hopeless  tur- 
moil of  civil  disturbance  which  marked  the  decline  of  national 
greatness  in  Grecian  history,  philosophy  was  chiefly  occupied 
with  questions  of  personal  interest  and  personal  happiness. 
The  poetic  enthusiasm  with  which  a  nobler  age  had  longed  for 
truth,  and  sought  it  as  the  highest  good,  has  all  disappeared, 
and  now  one  sect  seeks  refuge  from  the  storms  and  agitations 
of  the  age  in  Stoical  indifference,  the  other  in  Epicurean  ef- 
feminacy. 

If  now  we  have  succeeded  in  presenting  the  real  problem 
of  philosophy,  it  will  at  once  be  obvious  that  the  inquiry  was 
not,  in  any  proper  sense,  theological.  Speculative  thought,  dur- 
ing the  period  we  have  marked  as  the  era  of  Greek  philosophy, 
was  not  an  inquiry  concerning  the  existence  or  nature  of  God, 
or  concerning  the  relations  of  man  to  God,  or  the  duties  which 
man  owes  to  God.     These  questions  were  all  remitted  to  the 

18 


2  74  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

theologian.  There  was  a  clear  line  of  demarkation  separat- 
ing the  domains  of  religion  and  philosophy.  Religion  rested 
solely  on  authority,  and  appealed  to  the  instinctive  faith  of  the 
human  heart.  She  permitted  no  encroachment  upon  her  set- 
tled usages,  and  no  questioning  of  her  ancient  beliefs.  Philos- 
ophy rested  on  reason  alone.  It  was  an  independent  effort  of 
thought  to  interpret  nature,  and  attain  the  fundamental  grounds 
of  human  knowledge — to  find  an  apx>/ — a  first  principle,  which, 
being  assumed,  should  furnish  a  rational  explanation  of  all  ex- 
istence. If  philosophy  reach  the  conclusion  that  the  ap^V  was 
water,  or  air,  or  fire,  or  a  chaotic  mixture  of  all  the  elements  or 
atoms,  extended  and  self-moved,  or  monads,  or  to  irav,  or  un- 
created mind,  and  that  conclusion  harmonized  with  the  ancient 
standards  of  religious  faith — well ;  if  not,  philosophy  must  pre- 
sent some  method  of  conciliation.  The  conflicts  of  faith  and 
reason ;  the  strugglings  of  traditional  authority  to  maintain 
supremacy ;  the  accommodations  and  conciliations  attempted 
in  those  primitive  times,  would  furnish  a  chapter  of  peculiar 
interest,  could  it  now  be  written. 

The  poets  who  appeared  in  the  dim  twilight  of  Grecian  civil- 
ization— Orpheus,  Musaeus,  Homer,  Hesiod — seem  to  have  oc- 
cupied the  same  relation  to  the  popular  mind  in  Greece  which 
the  Bible  now  sustains  to  Christian  communities.^  Not  that 
we  regard  them  as  standing  on  equal  ground  of  authority,  or 
in  any  sense  a  revelation.  But,  in  the  eye  of  the  wondering 
Greek,  they  were  invested  with  the  highest  sacredness  and  the 
supremest  authority.  The  high  poetic  inspiration  which  per- 
vaded them  was  a  supernatural  gift.  Their  sublime  utterances 
were  accepted  as  proceeding  from  a  divine  afflatus.  They  were 
the  product  of  an  age  in  which  it  was  believed  by  all  that  the  gods 
assumed  a  human  form,'^  and  held  a  real  intercourse  with  gifted 

^  "  Homer  was,  in  a  certain  sense,  the  Bible  of  the  Greeks." — Whewell, 
"  Platonic  Dialogues,"  p,  283. 

^  The  universality  of  this  belief  is  asserted  by  Cicero  :  "  Vetus  opinio  est, 
jam  usque  ab  heroicis  ducta  temporibus,  eaque  et  populi  Romani  et  omnium 
gentium  firmata  consensu,  versari  quandem  inter  homines  divinationem." — 
Cicero,  "  De  Divin."  bk.  i.  ch.  i. 


GREEK  FHILOSOFHT. 


275 


men.  This  universal  faith  is  regarded  by  some  as  being  a 
relic  of  still  more  distant  times,  a  faint  remembrance  of  the 
glory  of  patriarchal  days.  The  more  natural  opinion  is,  that  it 
was  begotten  of  that  universal  longing  of  the  human  heart  for 
some  knowledge  of  that  unseen  world  of  real  being,  which  man 
instinctively  felt  must  lie  beyond  the  world  of  fleeting  change 
and  delusive  appearances.  It  was  a  prolepsis  of  the  soul, 
reaching  upward  towards  its  source  and  goal.  The  poet  felt 
within  him  some  native  affinities  therewith,  and  longed  for  some 
stirring  breath  of  heaven  to  sweep  the  harp-strings  of  the  soul. 
He  invoked  the  inspiration  of  the  Goddess  of  Song,  and  waited 
for,  no  doubt  believed  in,  some  "  deific  impulse  "  descending  on 
him.  And  the  people  eagerly  accepted  his  utterance  as  the 
teaching  of  the  gods.  They  were  too  eager  for  some  knowl- 
edge from  that  unseen  world  to  question  their  credentials. 
Orpheus,  Hesiod,  Homer,  were  the  deoXoyoL — the  theologians 
of  that  age.  ^ 

These  ancient  poems,  then,  were  the  public  documents  of 
the  religion  of  Greece— the  repositories  of  the  national  faith. 
And  it  is  deserving  of  especial  note  that  the  philosopher  was 
just  as  anxious  to  sustain  his  speculations  by  quoting  the  high 
traditional  authority  of  the  ancient  theologian,  as  the  pro- 
pounder  of  modern  novelties  is  to  sustain  his  notions  by  the 
authority  of  the  Sacred  Scriptures.  Numerous  examples  of 
this  solicitude  will  recur  at  once  to  the  remembrance  of  the 
student  of  Plato.  All  encroachments  of  philosophy  upon  the 
domains  of  religion  were  watched  as  jealously  in  Athens  in  the 
sixth  centur}^  before  Christ,  as  the  encroachments  of  science 
upon  the  fields  of  theology  were  watched  in  Rome  in  the  seven- 
teenth century  after  Christ.  The  court  of  the  Areopagus  was 
as  earnest,  though  not  as  fanatical  and  cruel,  in  the  defense  of 
the  ancient  faith,  as  the  court  of  the  Inquisition  was  in  the  de- 
fense of  the  dogmas  of  the  Romish  Church.  The  people,  also, 
as  "  the  sacred  wars "  of  Greece  attest,  were  ready  quickly  to 
repel  every  assault  upon  the  majesty  of  their  religion.     And  so 

^  Cicero. 


I 


276  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

philosophy  even  had  its  martyrs.  The  tears  of  Pericles  were 
needed  to  save  Aspasia,  because  she  was  suspected  of  philoso- 
phy. But  neither  his  eloquence  nor  his  tears  could  save  his 
friend  Anaxagoras,  and  he  was  ostracized.  Aristotle  had  the 
greatest  difficulty  to  save  his  life.  And  Plato  was  twice  im- 
prisoned, and  once  sold  into  slavery.^ 

It  is  unnecessary  that  we  should,  in  this  place,  again  at- 
tempt the  delineation  of  the  theological  opinions  of  the  earlier 
periods  of  Grecian  civilization.  That  the  ancient  Greeks  be- 
lieved in  one  Supreme  God  has  been  conclusively  proved  by 
Cudworth.  The  argument  of  his  fourth  chapter  is  incontro- 
vertible.'* However  great  the  number  of  "  generated  gods " 
who  crowded  the  Olympus,  and  composed  the  ghostly  array 
of  Greek  mythology,  they  were  all  subordinate  agents,  "demi- 
urges," employed  in  the  framing  of  the  world  and  all  material 
things,  or  else  the  ministers  of  the  moral  and  providential  gov- 
ernment of  the  UQ  Beoq  ayivr)TOQ — the  one  uncreated  God.  Be- 
neath, or  beyond  the  whole  system  of  pagan  polytheism,  we 
recognize  a  faith  in  an  Uncreated  Mmd,t\ie.  Source  of  all  the  in- 
telligence, and  order,  and  harmony  which  pervades  the  uni- 
verse ;  the  Fountain  of  law  and  justice ;  the  Ruler  of  the  world ; 
the  Avenger  of  injured  innocence ;  and  the  final  Judge  of  men. 
The  immortality  of  the  soul  and  a  state  of  future  retribution 
were  necessary  corollaries  of  this  sublime  faith.  This  primitive 
theology  was  unquestionably  the  people's  faith  j  the  faith,  also, 
of  the  philosopher,  in  his  inmost  heart,  however  far  he  might 
wander  in  speculative  thought.  The  instinctive  feeling  of  the 
human  heart,  the  spontaneous  intuitions  of  the  human  reason, 
have  led  man,  in  every  age,  to  recognize  a  God.  It  is  within 
the  fields  of  speculative  thought  that  skepticism  has  had  its 
birth.  Any  thing  like  atheism  has  only  made  its  appearance 
amid  the  efforts  of  human  reason  to  explain  the  universe.  The 
native  sentiments  of  the  heart  and  the  spontaneous  movements 

*  Cousin's  "  Lectures  on  the  History  of  Philosophy,"  vol.  i.  p.  305. 
'  "  Intellectual  System  of  the  Universe ;"  see  also  ch.  iii.,  "  On  the  Re- 
ligion of  the  Athenians." 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


277 


of  the  reason  have  always  been  towards  faith,  that  is,  towards 
"  a  rehgious  movement  of  the  soul."^  Unbridled  speculative 
thought,  which  turns  towards  the  outer  world  alone,  and  disre- 
gards "  the  voices  of  the  soul,"  tends  towards  doubt  and  irre- 
ligion.  But,  as  Cousin  has  said,  "  a  complete  extravagance,  a 
total  delusion  (except  in  case  of  real  derangement),  is  impossi- 
ble." "  Beneath  reflection  there  is  still  spontaneity,  when  the 
scholar  has  denied  the  existence  of  a  God ;  listen  to  the  man, 
interrogate  him  unawares,  and  you  will  see  that  all  his  words 
betray  the  idea  of  a  God,  and  that  faith  in  a  God  is,  without 
his  recognition,  at  the  bottom  of  his  heart/" 

Let  us  not,  therefore,  be  too  hasty  in  representing  the  early 
philosophers  as  destitute  of  the  idea  of  a  God,  because  in  the 
imperfect  and  fragmentary  representations  which  are  given  us 
of  the  philosophical  opinions  of  Thales,  and  Anaximenes,  and 
Heraclitus,  and  Diogenes  of  Apollonia,  we  find  no  explicit  allu- 
sions to  the  Uncreated  Mind  as  the  first  principle  and  cause  of 
all.  A  few  sentences  will  comprehend  the  whole  of  what  re- 
mains of  the  opinions  of  the  earliest  philosophers,  and  these 
were  transmitted  for  ages  by  oral  tradition.  To  Plato  and 
Aristotle  we  are  chiefly  indebted  for  a  stereot3^e  of  those  scat- 
tered, fragmentary  sentences  which  came  to  their  hands  through 
the  dim  and  distorting  medium  of  more  than  two  centuries. 
Surely  no  one  imagines  these  few  sentences  contain  and  sum 
up  the  results  of  a  lifetime  of  earnest  thought,  or  represent  all 
the  opinions  and  beliefs  of  the  earliest  philosophers !  And 
should  we  find  therein  no  recognition  of  a  personal  God, 
would  it  not  be  most  unfair  and  illogical  to  assert  that  they 
were  utterly  ignorant  of  a  God,  or  wickedly  denied  his  being  ? 
If  they  say  "  there  is  no  God,"  then  they  are  foolish  Atheists  ; 
if  they  are  silent  on  that  subject,  we  have  a  right  to  assume 
they  were  Theists,  for  it  is  most  natural  to  believe  in  God. 
And  yet  it  has  been  quite  customary  for  Christian  teachers, 
after  the  manner  of  some  Patristic  writers,  to  deny  to  those 
early  sages  the  smallest  glimpse  of  underived  and  independent 

^  Cousin's  "  Hist,  of  Philos.,"  vol.  i.  p.  22.  '  Id.,  ib.,  vol.  i.  p.  137. 


278  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

knowledge  of  a  Divine  Being,  in  their  zeal  to  assert  for  the 
Sacred  Scriptures  the  exclusive  prerogative  of  revealing  Him. 

Now  in  regard  to  the  theological  opinions  of  the  Greek  phi- 
losophers, we  shall  venture  this  general  lemma — the  majority  of 
them  recognized  an  ^^incorporeal  substance,^^^  an  uncreated  Intelli- 
gence, an  ordering,  governing  Mind.  Leucippus,  Democritus, 
and  Epicurus,  who  were  Materialists,  are  perhaps  the  only  ex- 
ceptions. Many  of  them  were  Pantheists,  in  the  higher  form 
of  Pantheism,  which,  though  it  associates  the  universe  with  its 
framer  and  mover,  still  makes  "the  moving  principle"  superior 
to  that  which  is  moved.     The  world  was  a  living  organism, 

"Whose  body  nature  is,  and  God  the  soul." 

Unquestionably  most  of  them  recognized  the  existence  of  two 
first  principles,  substances  essentially  distinct,  which  had  co- 
existed from  eternity — an  incorporeal  Deity  and  matter. '^  We 
grant  that  the  free  production  of  a  universe  by  a  creative  fiat — 
the  calling  of  matter  into  being  by  a  simple  act  of  omnipotence 
— is  not  elementary  to  human  reason.  The  famous  physical 
axiom  of  antiquity,  "Z>^  nihilo  nihil,  in  nihilum  posse  reverti,^^ 
under  one  aspect,  may  be  regarded  as  the  expression  of  the 
universal  consciousness  of  a  mental  inability  to  conceive  a 
creation  out  of  nothing,  or  an  annihilation.'  "We  can  not  con- 
ceive, either,  on  the  one  hand,  nothing  becoming  something,  or 
something  becoming  nothing,  on  the  other  hand.  When  God 
is  said  to  create  the  universe  out  of  nothing,  we  think  this  by 
supposing  that  he  evolves  the  universe  out  of  himself;  and  in 
like  manner,  we  conceive  annihilation  only  by  conceiving  the 
Creator  to  withdraw  his  creation  from  actuality  into  power."* 
"  It  is  hy  faith  we  understand  the  worlds  were  framed  by  the 
word  of  God,  so  that  things  which  are  were  not  made  from 
things  which  do  appear  " —  that  is,  from  pre-existent  matter. 

^  ^'■Ovctav  ac6)fxaTov." — Plato. 

^  Cudworth's  "Intellectual  System,"  vol.  i.  p.  269. 

^  Mansell's  "  Limits  of  Religious  Thought,"  p.  100, 

•*  Sir  William  Hamilton's  "  Discussions  on  Philosophy,"  p.  575. 


OBEEK   PHILOSOPHY.  279 

Those  writers  ^  are,  therefore,  clearly  in  error  who  assert  that 
the  earliest  question  of  Greek  philosophy  was,  What  is  God  ? 
and  that  various  and  discordant  answers  were  given,  Thales 
saying,  water  is  God ,  Anaximenes,  air ;  Heraclitus,  fire ;  Py- 
thagoras, numbers ;  and  so  on.  The  idea  of  God  is  a  native 
intuition  of  the  mind.  It  springs  up  spontaneously  from  the 
depths  of  the  human  soul.  The  human  mind  naturally  recog- 
nizes God  as  an  uncreated  Mind,  and  recognizes  itself  as  "  the 
offspring  of  God."  And,  therefore,  it  is  simply  impossible  for 
it  to  acknowledge  water,  or  air,  or  fire,  or  any  material  thing  to 
be  its  God.  Now  they  who  reject  this  fundamental  principle 
evidently  misapprehend  the  real  problem  of  early  Grecian  phil- 
osophic thought.  The  external  world,  the  material  universe, 
was  the  first  object  of  their  inquiry,  and  the  method  of  their  in- 
quiry was,  at  the  first  stage,  purely  physical.  Every  object  of 
sense  had  a  beginning  and  an  end ;  it  rose  out  of  something, 
and  it  fell  back  into  something.  Beneath  this  ceaseless  flow 
and  change  there  must  be  some  permanent  principle.  What 
is  that  aroixelov — that  first  element  ?  The  changes  in  the  uni- 
verse seem  to  obey  some  principle  of  law — they  have  an  orderly 
succession.  What  is  that  fiopcpi] — that  form,  or  ideal,  or  arche- 
type, proper  to  each  thing,  and  according  to  which  all  things 
are  produced.?  These  changes  must  be  produced  by  some 
efiicient  cause,  some  power  or  being  which  is  itself  immobile, 
and  permanent,  and  eternal,  and  adequate  to  their  production. 
What  is  that  apxri  Tijg  Kivijaeiog — that  first  principle  of  move- 
ment ?  Then,  lastly,  there  must  be  an  end  for  which  all  things 
exist — a  good  reason  why  things  are  as  they  are,  and  not  other- 
wise. What  is  that  to  ov  evekiv  koX  to  ayaQov — that  reason  and 
good  of  all  things  ?  Now  these  are  all  apxa«  or  first  principles 
of  the  universe.  "  Common  to  all  first  principles,"  says  Aris- 
totle, "is  the  being,  the  original,  from  which  a  thing  is,  or  is  pro- 
duced, or  is  known."'*  First  principles,  therefore,  include  both 
elements  and  causes,  and,  under  certain  aspects,  elements  are 

^  As  the  writer  of  the  article  "  Attica,"  in  the  Encyclopaedia  Britannica. 
^  "  Metaphysics,"  bk.  iv.  ch.  i.  p.  112  (Bohn's  edition). 


28o  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

also  causes,  in  so  far  as  they  are  that  without  which  a  thing  can 
not  be  produced.  Hence  that  highest  generalization  by  Aris- 
totle of  all  first  principles  ;  as — i.  The  Material  Cause  ;  2.  The 
Formal  Cause ;  3.  The  Efficient  Cause ;  4.  The  Final  Cause. 
The  grand  subject  of  inquiry  in  ancient  philosophy  was  not 
alone  what  is  the  final  element  from  which  all  things  have  been 
produced  ?  nor  yet  what  is  the  efficient  cause  of  the  movement 
and  the  order  of  the  universe  ?  but  what  are  those  First  Princi- 
ples which^  being  assttmed,  shall  furnish  a  rational  explanation 
of  all  phenomena^  of  all  becoming  ? 

So  much  being  premised,  we  proceed  to  consider  the  efforts 
and  the  results  of  philosophic  thought  in 

THE  PRE-SOCRATIC   SCHOOLS. 

"  The  first  act  in  the  drama  of  Grecian  speculation  was  per- 
formed on  the  varied  theatre  of  the  Grecian  colonies — Asiatic, 
insular,  and  Italian,  verging  at  length  (in  Anaxagoras)  towards 
Athens."  During  the  progress  of  this  drama  two  distinct 
schools  of  philosophy  were  developed,  having  distinct  geo- 
graphical provinces,  one  on  the  east,  tlie  other  on  the  west,  of 
the  peninsula  of  Greece,  and  deriving  their  names  from  the 
localities  in  which  they  flourished.  The  earliest  was  the  Ionian; 
the  latter  was  the  Italian  school. 

It  would  be  extremely  difficult,  at  this  remote  period,  to  es- 
timate the  influence  which  geographical  conditions  and  ethnical 
relations  exerted  in  determining  the  course  of  philosophic 
thought  in  these  schools.  Unquestionably  those  conditions 
contributed  somewhat  towards  fixing  their  individuality.  At 
the  same  time,  it  must  be  granted  that  the  distinction  in  these 
two  schools  of  philosophy  is  of  a  deeper  character  than  can  be 
represented  or  explained  by  geographical  surroundings  ;  it  is  a 
distinction  reaching  to  the  very  foundation  of  their  habits  of 
thought.  These  schools  represent  two  distinct  aspects  of  phil- 
osophic thought,  two  distinct  methods  in  which  the  human 
mind  has  essayed  to  solve  the  problem  of  the  universe. 

The  ante-Socratic  schools  were  chiefly  occupied  with  the 


GBEEK  FHILOSOPHT.  281 

Study  of  external  nature.  "  Greek  philosophy  was,  at  its  first 
appearance,  a  philosophy  of  nature."  It  was  an  effort  of  the 
reason  to  reach  a  "first  principle"  which  should  explain  the 
universe.  This  early  attempt  was  purely  speculative.  It 
sought  to  interpret  all  phenomena  by  hypotheses,  that  is,  by 
suppositions,  more  or  less  plausible,  suggested  by  physical  an- 
alogies or  by  d  priori  rational  conceptions. 

Now  there  are  two  distinct  aspects  under  which  nature  pre- 
sents itself  to  the  observant  mind.  The  first  and  most  obvious 
is  the  simple  phenomena  as  perceived  by  the  senses.  The  sec- 
ond is  the  relations  oi phenomena,  cognized  by  the  reason  alone. 
Let  phenomena,  which  are  indeed  the  first  objects  of  perception, 
continue  to  be  the  chief  and  almost  exclusive  object  of  thought, 
and  philosophy  is  on  the  highway  of  pure  physics.  On  the 
other  hand,  instead  of  stopping  at  phenomena,  let  their  rela- 
tions become  the  sole  object  of  thought,  and  philosophy  is  now 
on  the  road  of  purely  mathematical  or  metaphysical  abstraction. 
Thus  two  schools  of  philosophy  are  developed,  the  one  sensa- 
tional, the  other  idealist.  Now  these,  it  will  be  found,  are 
the  leading  and  characteristic  tendencies  of  the  two  grand  di- 
visions of  the  pre-Socratic  schools ;  the  Ionian  is  sensational, 
the  Italian  is  idealist. 

These  two  schools  have  again  been  the  subject  of  a  further 
sub-division  based  upon  diverse  habits  of  thought.  The  Ionian 
school  sought  to  explain  the  universe  by  physical  analogies. 
Of  these  there  are  two  clear  and  obvious  divisions — analogies 
suggested  by  living  organisms,  and  analogies  suggested  by  me- 
chanical arrangements.  One  class  of  philosophers  in  the  Ioni- 
an school  laid  hold  on  the  first  analogy.  They  regarded  the 
world  as  a  living  being,  spontaneously  evolving  itself — a  vital 
organism  whose  successive  developments  and  transformations 
constitute  all  visible  phenomena.  A  second  class  laid  hold 
on  the  analogy  suggested  by  mechanical  arrangements.  For 
them  the  universe  was  a  grand  superstructure,  built  up  from 
elemental  particles,  arranged  and  united  by  some  ab-extra 
power  or  force,  or  else  aggregated  by  some  inherent  mutual 


282  CHMISTIANITY  AND 

affinity.     Thus  we  have  two  sects  of  the  Ionian  school;  the 
first,  Dynamical^  or  vital;  the  second,  Mechanical.^ 

The  Italian  school  sought  to  explain  the  universe  by  rational 
conceptions  and  d  priori  ideas.  Now  to  those  who  seek,  by 
simple  reflection,  to  investigate  the  relations  of  the  external 
world  this  marked  distinction  will  present  itself :  some  are  re- 
lations betweeji  sensible  phenomena — relations  of  time,  of  place, 
of  number,  of  proportion,  and  of  harmony ;  others  are  relations 
of  phenomena  to  essential  being — relations  of  qualities  to  sub- 
stance, of  becoming  to  being,  of  the  finite  to  the  infinite.  The 
former  constituted  the  field  of  Pythagorean  the  latter  of  Eleatic 
contemplation.  The  Pythagoreans  sought  to  explain  the  uni- 
verse by  numbers,  forms,  and  harmonies ;  the  Eleatics  by  the 
d  priori  ideas  of  unity,  substance.  Being  in  se,  the  Infinite. 
Thus  were  constituted  a  Mathematical  and  a  Metaphysical  sect 
in  the  Italian  school.  The  pre-Socratic  schools  may,  therefore, 
be  tabulated  in  the  following  order  : 

I.  Ionian    (Sensational),  (i.)  Physical |  M^^^^^nkal""'  ^''^^' 

II.  ITALIAN  (Ideali^),      I  f\  Mathematical  . . .  Pythagoreans. 
^  "      (  (3.)  Metaphysical Eleatics. 

I.  The  Ionian  or  Physical  School. — ^AVe  have  premised  that 
the  philosophers  of  this  school  attempted  the  explanation  of 
the  universe  by  physical  analogies. 

One  class  of  these  early  speculators,  the  £>y?iamical,  or  vital 
theorists,  proceeded  on  the  supposition  of  a  living  energy  in- 
folded in  nature,  which  in  its  spontaneous  development  contin- 
uously undergoes  alteration  both  of  quality  and  form.  This 
imperfect  analogy  is  the  first  hypothesis  of  childhood.  The 
child  personifies  the  stone  that  hurts  him,  and  his  first  impulse 
is  to  resent  the  injury  as  though  he  imagined  it  to  be  endowed 
with  consciousness,  and  to  be  acting  with  design.  The  child- 
hood of  superstition  (whose  genius  is  multiplicity)  personifies 
each  individual  existence — a  rude  Fetichism,  which  imagines  a 
supernatural  power  and  presence  enshrined  in  every  object  of 
^  Ritter's  "Ancient  Philosophy,"  vol.  i.  pp.  191,  192. 


GREEK  PHILOSOrHY.  283 

nature,  in  every  plant,  and  stock,  and  stone.  The  childhood 
of  philosophy  (whose  genius  is  unity)  personifies  the  universe. 
It  regards  the  earth  as  one  vast  organism,  animated  by  one 
soul,  and  this  soul  of  the  world  as  a  "created  god."^  The  first 
efforts  of  philosophy  were,  therefore,  simply  an  attempt  to  ex- 
plain the  universe  in  harmony  with  the  popular  theological  be- 
liefs. The  cosmogonies  of  the  early  speculators  in  the  Ionian 
school  were  an  elaboration  of  the  ancient  theogonies,  but  still 
an  elaboration  conducted  under  the  guidance  of  that  law  of 
thought  which  constrains  man  to  seek  for  unity,  and  reduce  the 
many  to  the  one. 

Therefore,  in  attempting  to  construct  a  theory  of  the  universe 
they  commenced  by  postulating  an  apx>/ — a  first  principle  or 
element  out  of  which,  by  a  z///«/ process,  all  else  should  be  pro- 
duced. "  Accordingly,  whatever  seemed  the  most  subtle  or  pli- 
able, as  well  as  universal  element  in  the  mass  of  the  visible 
world,  was  marked  as  the  seminal  principle  whose  successive 
developments  and  transformations  produced  all  the  rest."* 
With  this  seminal  principle  the  living,  animating  principle 
seems  to  have  been  associated — in  some  instances  perhaps 
confounded,  and  in  most  instances  called  by  the  same  name. 
And  having  pursued  this  analogy  so  far,  we  shall  find  the 
most  decided  and  conclusive  evidence  of  a  tendency  to  regard 
the  soul  of  man  as  similar,  in  its  nature,  to  the  soul  which  ani- 
mates the  world. 

Thales  ef  Miletus  (b.c.  636-542)  was  the  first  to  lead  the  way 
in  the  perilous  inquiry  after  an  apx^>  °^  ^^'^t  principle,  which 
should  furnish  a  rational  explanation  of  the  universe.  Follow- 
ing, as  it  would  seem,  the  genealogy  of  Hesiod,  he  supposed 
water  to  be  the  primal  element  out  of  which  all  material  things 
were  produced.  Aristotle  supposes  he  was  impressed  with  this 
idea  from  observing  that  all  things  are  nourished  by  moisture ; 
warmth  itself,  he  declared,  proceeded  from  moisture  ;  the  seeds 
of  all  things  are  moist ;  water,  when  condensed,  becomes  earth. 

'  Plato's  "  Laws,"  bk.  x.  ch.  i. ;  "  Timaeus,"  ch.  xii. 

'^  Butler's  *'  Lectures  on  Ancient  Philosophy,"  vol.  i.  p.  292. 


PI 


284  CEEISTIANITY  AND 


Thus  convinced  of  the  universal  presence  of  water,  he  declared 
it  to  be  the  first  principle  of  things/ 

And  now,  from  this  brief  statement  of  the  Thalean  physics, 
are  we  to  conclude  that  he  recognized  only  a  material  cause  of 
the  universe  ?  Such  is  the  impression  we  receive  from  the 
reading  of  the  First  Book  of  Aristotle's  Metaphysics.  His  evi- 
dent purpose  is  to  prove  that  the  first  philosophers  of  the  Ionian 
school  did  not  recognize  an  efficient  cause.  In  his  opinion,  they 
were  decidedly  materialistic.  Now  to  question  the  authority  of 
Aristotle  may  appear  to  many  an  act  of  presumption.  But 
Aristotle  was  not  infallible ;  and  nothing  is  more  certain  than 
that  in  more  than  one  instance  he  does  great  injustice  to  his 
predecessors.^  To  him,  unquestionably,  belongs  the  honor  of 
having  made  a  complete  and  exhaustive  classification  of  causes; 
but  there  certainly  does  appear  something  more  than  vanity  in 
the  assumption  that  he,  of  all  the  Greek  philosophers,  was  the 
only  one  who  recognized  them  all.  His  sagacious  classification 
was  simply  a  resume  of  the  labors  of  his  predecessors.  His 
"  principles  "  or  "  causes  "  were  incipient  in  the  thought  of  the 
first  speculators  in  philosophy.  Their  accurate  definition  and 
clearer  presentation  was  the  work  of  ages  of  analytic  thought. 
The  phrases  "  efiicient,"  "  formal,"  "  final "  cause,  are,  we  grant, 
peculiar  to  Aristotle ;  the  ideas  were  equally  the  possession  of 
his  predecessors. 

The  evidence,  we  think,  is  conclusive  that,  with  this  primal 
element  (water),  Thales  associated  a  formative  principle  of  mo- 
tion; to  the  "material"  he  added  the  "efficient"  cause.  A 
strong  presumption  in  favor  of  this  opinion  is  grounded  on  the 
psychological  views  of  Thales.  The  author  of  "  De  Placitis 
Philosophorum  "  associates  him  with  Pythagoras  and  Plato,  in 
teaching  that  the  soul  is  incorporeal,  making  it  naturally  self- 
active,  and  an  intelligent  substance.^     And  it  is  admitted  by 

^  Aristotle's  "  Metaphysics,"  bk.  i.  ch.  iii. 

^  Lewes's  "Biographical  Plistory  of  Philosophy,"  p.  77;  Coasin's  "The 
True,  the  Beautiful,  and  the  Good,"  p.  77. 

^  Cudworth's  "Intellectual  System,"  vol.  i.  p.  71. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  285 

Aristotle  (rather  unwillingly,  we  grant,  but  his  testimony  is  all 
the  more  valuable  on  that  account)  that,  in  his  time,  the  opin- 
ion that  the  soul  is  a  principle,  aeiKiyrjrov — ever  moving,  or  es- 
sentially self-active,  was  currently  ascribed  to  Thales.  "  If  we 
may  rely  on  the  notices  of  Thales,  he  too  would  seem  to  have 
conceived  the  soul  as  a  moving  principle."^  Extending  this 
idea,  that  the  soul  is  a  moving  principle,  he  held  that  all  mo- 
tion in  the  universe  was  due  to  the  presence  of  a  living  soul. 
"He  is  reported  to  have  said  that  the  loadstone  possessed  a 
soul  because  it  could  move  iron."^  And  he  taught  that  "the 
world  itself  is  animated,  and  full  of  gods."'  "  Some  think  that 
soul  and  life  is  mingled  with  the  whole  universe  ;  and  thence, 
perhaps,  was  that  [opinion]  of  Thales  that  all  things  are  full  of 
gods,"*  portions,  as  Aristotle  said,  of  the  universal  soul..  These 
views  are  quite  in  harmony  with  the  theology  which  makes 
the  Deity  the  moving  energy  of  the  universe  —  the  energy 
which  wrought  the  successive  transformations  of  the  primitive 
aqueous  element.  They  also  furnish  a^trong  corroboration  of 
the  positive  statement  of  Cicero — "  Aquam,  dixit  Thales,  esse 
initium  rerum,  Deum  autem  earn  mentem  quae  ex  aqua  cuncta 
fingeret."  Thales  said  that  water  is  the  first  principle  of  things, 
but  God  was  that  mind  which  formed  all  things  out  of  water  -^ 
as  also  that  still  more  remarkable  saying  of  Thales,  recorded 
by  Diogenes  Laertius  ;  "  God  is  the  most  ancient  of  all  things, 
for  he  had  no  birth  ;  the  world  is  the  most  beautiful  of  all 
things,  for  it  is  the  workmanship  of  God."*  We  are  aware  that 
some  historians  of  philosophy  reject  the  statement  of  Cicero, 
because,  say  they,  "  it  does  violence  to  the  chronology  of  specu- 
lation."^ Following  Hegel,  they  assert  that  Thales  could  have 
no  conception  of  God  as  Intelligence,  since  that  is  a  conception 
of  a  more  advanced  philosophy.  Such  an  opinion  may  be 
naturally  expected  from  the  philosopher  who  places  God,  not 

'  Aristotle,  "De  Anima,"  i.  2,  17.  ^  Id.,  ib.,  i.  2,  17. 

^  Diogenes  Laertius,  "  Lives  of  the  Philosophers,"  p.  18  (Bohn's  ed.). 
*  Aristotle,  "  De  Anima,"  i.  17.  ^  "  De  Natura  Deor.,"  bk.  i.  ch.  x. 

^  "Lives,"  etc.,  p.  19.  '  Lewes's  "  Hist.  Philos.,"  p.  4. 


286  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

at  the  commencement,  but  at  the  end  of  things,  God  becoming 
conscious  and  intelligent  in  humanity.  If,  then,  Hegel  teaches 
that  God  himself  has  had  a  progressive  development,  it  is  no 
wonder  he  should  assert  that  the  idea  of  God  has  also  had  an 
historic  development,  the  last  term  of  which  is  an  intelligent 
God.  But  he  who  believes  that  the  idea  of  God  as  the  infinite 
and  the  perfect  is  native  to  the  human  mind,  and  that  God 
stands  at  the  beginning  of  the  entire  system  of  things,  will  feel 
there  is  a  strong  d  J>riori  ground  for  the  belief  that  Thales  rec- 
ognized the  existence  of  an  intelligent  God  who  fashioned  the 
universe. 

Anaximenes  of  Miletus  (b.c.  529-480)  we  place  next  to 
Thales  in  the  consecutive  history  of  thought.  It  has  been 
usual  to  rank  Anaximander  next  to  the  founder  of  the  Ionian 
School.  The  entire  complexion  of  his  system  is,  however,  un- 
like that  of  a  pupil  of  Thales.  And  we  think  a  careful  consid- 
eration of  his  views  will  justify  our  placing  him  at  the  head 
of  the  Mechanical  or  Atomic  division  of  the  Ionian  school. 
Anaximenes  is  the  historical  successor  of  Thales ;  he  was  un- 
questionably a  vitalist.  He  took  up  the  speculation  where 
Thales  had  left  it,  and  he  carried  it  a  step  forward  in  its  de- 
velopment.^ 

Pursuing  the  same  method  as  Thales,  he  was  not,  however, 
satisfied  with  the  conclusion  he  had  reached.  Water  was  not 
to  Anaximenes  the  most  significant,  neither  was  it  the  most 
universal  element.  But  air  seemed  universally  present.  "  The 
earth  was  a  broad  leaf  resting  upon  it.  All  things  were  pro- 
duced from  it ;  all  things  were  resolved  into  it.  When  he 
breathed  he  drew  in  a  part  of  this  universal  life.  All  things 
are  nourished  by  air."^  Was  not,  therefore,  air  the  a^yjh  o^^  Pri- 
mal element  of  things  ? 

This  brief  notice  of  the  physical  speculations  of  Anaximenes 
is  all  that  has  survived  of  his  opinions.  We  search  in  vain  for 
some  intimations  of  his  theological  views.      On   this  merely 

'  Ritter's  "  History  of  Ancient  Philosophy,"  vol.  i.  p.  203. 
^  Lewes's  "  Biographical  History  of  Philosophy,"  p.  7. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  287 

negative  ground,  some  writers  have  unjustly  charged  him  with 
Atheism.  Were  we  to  venture  a  conjecture,  we  would  rather 
sa)^  that  there  are  indications  of  a  tendency  to  Pantheism  in 
that  form  of  it  which  associates  God  necessarily  with  the  uni- 
verse, but  does  not  utterly  confound  them.  His  fixing  upon 
"  air "  as  the  primal  element,  seems  an  effort  to  reconcile,  in 
some  apparently  intermediate  substance,  the  opposite  qualities 
of  corporeal  and  spiritual  natures.  Air  is  invisible,  impalpable, 
all-penetrating,  and  yet  in  some  manner  appreciable  to  sense. 
May  not  the  vital  transformations  of  this  element  have  pro- 
duced all  the  rest  ?  The  writer  of  the  Article  on  Anaximenes 
in  the  Encyclopaedia  Britannica  tells  us  (on  what  ancient  au- 
thorities he  saith  not)  that  "  he  asserted  this  air  was  God,  since 
the  divine  power  resides  in  it  and  agitates  it." 

Some  indications  of  the  views  of  Anaximenes  may  perhaps 
be  gathered  from  the  teachings  of  Diogenes  of  Apollonia  (b.c. 
520-490,)  who  was  the  disciple,  and  is  generally  regarded  as 
the  commentator  and  expounder  of  the  views  of  Anaximenes. 
The  air  of  Diogenes  was  a  soul ;  therefore  it  was  liviftg,  and  not 
only  living,  but  conscious  and  intelligent.  "  It  knows  much," 
says  he;  "for  without  reason  it  would  be  impossible  for  all  to 
be  arranged  duly  and  proportionately;  and  whatever  objects 
we  consider  will  be  found  to  be  so  arranged  and  ordered  in  the 
best  and  most  beautiful  manner."^  Here  we  have  a  distinct 
recognition  of  the  fundamental  axiom  that  mind  is  the  only  val- 
id explanation  of  the  order  and  harmony  which  pervades  the  uni- 
verse. With  Diogenes  the  first  principle  is  a  "divine  air," 
which  is  vital,  conscious,  and  intelligent,  which  spontaneously 
evolves  itself,  and  which,  by  its  ceaseless  transformations,  pro- 
duces all  phenomena.  The  soul  of  man  is  a  detached  portion 
of  this  divine  element ;  his  body  is  developed  or  evolved  there- 
from. The  theology  of  Diogenes,  and,  as  we  believe,  of  his 
master,  Anaximenes  also,  was  a  species  of  Materialistic  Pan- 
theism. 

^  Lewes's  "Biographical  History  of  Philosophy,"  p.  8;  Ritter's  "History 
of  Ancient  Philosophy,"  vol.  i.  p.  214. 


288  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

HeracUtus  of  Ephesus  {b.c.  503-420)  comes  next  in  the  order 
of  speculative  thought.  In  his  philosophy,  Jlre  is  the  a^xn^  or 
first  principle ;  but  not  fire  in  the  usual  acceptation  of  that 
term.  The  Heraclitean  "  fire  "  is  not  flame,  which  is  only  an 
intensity  of  fire,  but  a  warm,  dry  vapor — an  ether,  which  may 
be  illustrated,  perhaps,  by  the  "caloric"  of  modern  chemistry. 
This  ^^  ether '^  was  the  primal  element  out  of  which  the  universe 
was  formed ;  it  was  also  a  vital  power  or  principle  which  ani- 
mated the  universe,  and,  in  fact,  the  cause  of  all  its  successive 
phenomenal  changes.  "  The  world,"  he  said,  "  was  neither 
made  by  the  gods  nor  men,  and  it  was,  and  is,  and  ever  shall 
be,  an  ever-living  fire,  in  due  proportion  self-enkindled,  and  in 
due  measure  self-extinguished."^  The  universe  is  thus  reduced 
to  "an  eternal  fire,"  whose  ceaseless  energy  is  manifested 
openly  in  the  work  of  dissolution,  and  yet  secretly,  but  univer- 
sally, in  the  work  of  renovation.  The  phenomena  of  the  uni- 
verse are  explained  by  HeracUtus  as  "  the  concurrence  of  oppo- 
site tendencies  and  efforts  in  the  motions  of  this  ever-living  fire, 
out  of  which  results  the  most  beautiful  harmony.  This  harmo- 
ny of  the  world  is  one  of  conflicting  impulses,  like  the  lyre  and 
the  bow.  The  strife  between  opposite  tendencies  is  the  parent 
of  all  things.     All  life  is  change,  and  change  is  strife."^ 

HeracUtus  was  the  first  to  proclaim  the  doctrine  of  the  per- 
petual fluxion  of  the  universe  {ro  peov,  to  yLyvo^Evov — Unrest 
and  Development),  the  endless  changes  of  matter,  and  the  mu- 
tability and  perishability  of  all  individual  things.  This  restless, 
changing  flow  of  things,  which  never  are,  but  always  are  becom- 
ing, he  pronounced  to  be  the  One  and  the  All. 

From  this  statement  of  the  physical  theory  of  HeracUtus  we 
might  naturally  infer  that  he  was  a  Hylopathean  Atheist.  Such 
an  hypothesis  would  not,  however,  be  truthful  or  legitimate.  On 
a  more  careful  examination,  his  system  will  be  found  to  stand 
half-way  between  the  materialistic  and  the  spiritual  conception 

*  Ritter's  "History  of  Ancient  Philosophy,"  vol.  i.  p.  235. 
^  Lewes's  "  Biographical  History  of  Philosophy,"  p.  70 ;  Ritter's  "  His- 
tory of  Ancient  Philosophy,"  vol.  i.  p.  244. 


GREEK  FHILOSOPIIY.  289 

of  the  Author  of  the  universe,  and  marks,  indeed,  a  transition 
from  the  one  to  the  other.  HeracHtus  unquestionably  held 
that  all  substance  is  material,  for  a  philosopher  who  proclaims, 
as  he  did,  that  the  senses  are  the  only  source  of  knowledge, 
must  necessarily  attach  himself  to  a  material  element  as  the 
primary  one.  And  yet  he  seems  to  have  spiritualized  matter. 
"  The  moving  unit  of  Heraclitus — the  Becoming — is  as  immate- 
rial as  the  resting  unit  of  the  Eleatics  —  the  Being."^  The 
Heraclitean  ^^fire  "  is  endowed  with  spiritual  attributes.  "  Ar- 
istotle calls  it  -^vxh — soul,  and  says  that  it  is  do-wjuarwrarov,  or 
absolutely  incorporeal  ("  De  Anima,"  i.  2.  16).  It  is,  in  effect, 
the  common  ground  of  the  phenomena  both  of  mind  and  mat- 
ter j  it  is  not  only  the  animating,  but  also  the  intelligent  and 
regulating  principle  of  the  universe ;  the  iHivvoQ  Aoyoe,  or  uni- 
versal Word  or  Reason,  which  it  behooves  all  men  to  follow."' 
The  psychology  of  Heraclitus  throws  additional  light  upon  hi^ 
theological  opinions.  With  him  human  intelligence  is  a  de- 
tached portion  of  the  Universal  Reason.  "Inhaling,"  said  he, 
"  through  the  breath  the  Universal  Ether,  which  is  Divine  Rea- . 
son,  we  become  conscious."  The  errors  and  imperfections  of 
humanity  are  consequently  to  be  ascribed  to  a  deficiency  of  the 
Divine  Reason  in  man.  Whilst,  therefore,  the  theory  of  Herac- 
litus seems  to  materialize  mind,  it  may,  with  equal  fairness,  be 
said  to  spiritualize  matter. 

The  general  inference,  therefore,  from  all  that  remains  of 
the  doctrine  of  Heraclitus  is  that  he  was  a  Materialistic  Pan- 
theist. His  God  was  a  living,  rational,  intelligent  Ether — a 
soul  pervading  the  universe.  The  form  of  the  universe,  its 
ever-changing  phenomena,  were  a  necessary  emanation  from,  or 
a  perpetual  transformation  of,  this  universal  soul. 

With  Heraclitus  we  close  our  survey  of  that  sect  of  the  phys- 
ical school  which  regarded  the  world  as  a  living  organism. 

The  second  subdivision  of  the  physical  school,  the  Mechafii- 

^  Zeller's  "  History  of  Greek  Philosophy,"  vol.  i.  p.  57. 
'  Butler's  "  Lectures,"  vol.  i.  p.  297,  note. 

19 


290  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

cat  or  Atomist  theorists^  attempted  the  explanation  of  the  uni- 
verse by  analogies  derived  from  mechanical  collocations,  ar- 
rangements, and  movements.  The  universe  was  regarded  by 
them  as  a  vast  superstructure  built  up  from  elemental  particles, 
aggregated  by  some  inherent  force  or  mutual  affinity. 

Anaxi?nander  of  Miletus  (born  B.C.  610)  we  place  at  the  head 
of  the  Mechanical  sect  of  the  Ionian  school ;  first,  on  the  au- 
thority of  Aristotle,  who  intimates  that  the  philosophic  dogmata 
of  Anaximander  "  resemble  those  of  Democritus,"  who  was  cer- 
tainly an  Atomist ;  and,  secondly,  oecause  we  can  clearly  trace 
a  genetic  connection  between  the  opinions  of  Democritus  and 
Leucippus  and  those  of  Anaximander. 

The  «px'?j  o^  ^'^s^  principle  of  Anaximander,  was  to  uTreipov, 
the  l?ou?tdless,  the  illi7nitahle,  the  infinite.  Some  historians  of 
philosophy  have  imagined  that  the  infinite  of  Anaximandfer  was 
the  "  unlimited  all,"  and  have  therefore  placed  him  at  the  head 
of  the  Italian  or  "idealistic  school."  These  writers  are  mani- 
festly in  error.  Anaximander  was  unquestionably  a  sensation- 
alist. Whatever  his  "  infinite  "  may  be  found  to  be,  one  thing 
is  clear,  it  was  not  a  "metaphysical  infinite" — it  did  not  in- 
clude infinite  power,  much  less  infinite  mind. 

The  testimony  of  Aristotle  is  conclusive  that  by  "the  infi- 
nite "  Anaximander  understood  the  multitude  of  primary,  mate- 
rial particles.  He  calls  it  "  a  py/xa,  or  mixture  of  elements."* 
It  was,  in  fact,  a  chaos — an  original  state  in  which  the  primary 
elements  existed  in  a  chaotic  combination  without  limitation  or 
division.  He  assumed  a  certain  ^^ prima  materia^^  which  was 
neither  air,  nor  water,  nor  fire,  but  a  "  mixture "  of  all,  to  be 
the  first  principle  of  the  universe.  The  account  of  the  opinions 
of  Anaximander  which  is  given  by  Plutarch  ("De  Placita,"  etc.) 
is  a  further  confirmation  of  our  interpretation  of  his  infinite. 
"Anaximander,  the  Milesian,  affirmed  the  infinite  to  be  the 
first  principle,  and  that  all  things  are  generated  out  of  it,  and 
corrupted  again  into  it.  His  infinite  is  nothing  else  but  matter ^ 
"  Whence,"  says  Cudworth,  "  we  conclude  that  Anaximander's 
*  Aristotle's  **  Metaphysics,"  bk.  xi.  ch.  ii. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


291 


infinite  was  nothing  else  but  an  infinite  chaos  of  matter,  in 
which  were  actually  or  potentially  contained  all  manner  of 
qualities,  by  the  fortuitous  secretion  and  segregation  of  which 
he  supposed  infinite  worlds  to  be  successively  generated  and 
corrupted.  So  that  we  may  easily  guess  whence  Leucippus 
and  Democritus  had  their  infinite  v/orlds,  and  perceive  how 
near  akin  these  two  Atheistic  hypotheses  were."^  The  reader, 
whose  curiosity  may  lead  him  to  consult  the  authorities  col- 
lected by  Cudworth  (pp.  185-188),  will  find  in  the  doctrine  of 
Anaximander  a  rude  anticipation  of  the  modern  theories  of 
"spontaneous  generation"  and  "the  transmutation  of  species." 
In  the  fragments  of  Anaximander  that  remain  we  find  no  rec- 
ognition of  an  ordering  Mind,  and  his  philosophy  is  the  dawn 
of  a  Materialistic  school. 

Leucippus  of  Miletus  (b.c.  500-400)  appears,  in  the  order  of 
speculation,  as  the  successor  of  Anaximander.  Atoms  and 
space  are,  in  his  philosophy,  the  apxa/,  or  first  principles  of  all 
things.  "Leucippus  (and  his  companion,  Democritus)  assert 
that  the  plenum  and  the  vacuum  [/.  ^.,  body  and  space]  are  the 
first  principles,  whereof  one  is  the  Ens,  the  other  Non-ens ;  the 
differences  of  the  body,  which  are  only  figure,  order,  and  posi- 
tion, are  the  causes-  of  all  others."^ 

He  also  taught  that  the  elements,  and  the  worlds  derived 
from  them,  are  infiftite.  He  describes  the  manner  in  which 
the  worlds  aje  produced  as  follows  :  >j"  Many  bodies  of  various 
^  kinds  and  shapes  are  borne  by  amputation  from  the  infinite 
[/.  e.,  the  chaotic  /uTy^a  of  Anaximander]  into  a  vast  vacuum, 
and  then  they,  being  collected  together,  produce  a  vortex; 
according  to  which,  they,  dashing  against  each  other,  and 
whirling  about  in  every  direction,  are  separated  in  such  a  way 
that  like  attaches  itself  to  like ;  bodies  are  thus,  without  ceas- 
ing, united  according  to  the  impulse  given  by  the  vortex,  and  \ 
in  this  way  the  earth  was  produced."^    Thus,  through  a  bound-  \ 

^  Cudworth's  "  Intellectual  System,"  vol.  i.  pp.  186,  187. 
^  Aristotle's  "Metaphysics,"  p.  21  (Bohn's  edition). 
'  Diogenes  Laertius,  "  Lives,"  p.  389. 


292  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

less  void,  atoms  infinite  in  number  and  endlessly  diversified  in 
form  are  eternally  wandering ;  and,  by  their  aggregation,  infi-  / 
nite  worlds  are  successively  produced.     These  atoms  are  gov- 
erned in  their  movements  by  a  dark  negation  of  intelligence, 
designated  "  Fate,"  and  all  traces  of  a  Supreme  Mind  disap- 1 

1  pear  in  his  philosophy.     It  is  a  system  of  pure  materialism,  I 

I  which,  in  fact,  is  Atheism.  ; 

I        Democritus  of  Abdera  (b.c.  460-357),  the  companion  of  Leu- ; 

'  cippus,  also  taught  "that  atoms  and  the  vacuicm  were  the  begin- 
ning of  the  universe.'"     These  atoms,  he  taught,  were  infinite 

/  in  number,  homogeneous,  extended,  and  possessed  of  those  pri- 
mary qualities  of  matter  which  are  necessarily  involved  in  ex- 
tension in  space — as  size,  figure,  situation,  divisibility,  and  mo- 
bility. From  the  combination  of  these  atoms  all  other  exist- 
ences are  produced  ;  fire,  air,  earth,  and  water ;  sun,  moon,  and 
stars ;  plants,  animals,  and  men ;  the  soul  itself  is  an  aggrega- 
tion of  round,  moving  atoms.  And  "motion,  which  is  the 
cause  of  the  production  of  every  thing,  he  calls  necessity ^^ 
Atoms  are  thus  the  only  real  existences ;  these,  without  any 
pre -existent  mind,  or   intelligence,  were   the    original   of  all  -, 

;  things.  ~^— 

The  psychological  opinions  of  Democritus  were  as  decidedly 
materialistic  as  his  physical  theories.  All  knowledge  is  de- 
rived from  sensation.  It  is  only  by  material  impact  that  we 
can  know  the  external  world,  and  every  sense  is,  in  reality,  a 
kind  of  touch.  Material  images  are  being  continually  thrown 
off  from  the  surface  of  external  objects  which  come  into  actual 
contact  with  the  organs  of  sense.  The  primary  qualities  of 
matter,  that  is,  those  which  are  involved  in  extension  in  space, 
are  the  only  objects  of  real  knowledge ;  the  secondary  quali- 
ties of  matter,  as  softness,  hardness,  sweetness,  bitterness,  an*? 
the  like,  are  but  modifications  of  the  human  sensibilities. 
"The  sweet  exists  only  in  form  —  the  bitter  in  form,  hot  in 
form,  color  in  form ;  but  in  causal  reality  only  atoms  and 
space  exist.  The  sensible  things  which  are  supposed  by  opih- 
*  Diogenes  Laertius,  "  Lives,"  p.  395.  "  Id,  ib.,  p.  394. 


OREEK  PIIILOSOPHT. 


293 


ion  to  exist  have  no  real  existence,  but  atoms  and  space  alone 
exist.'" 

Thus  by  Democritus  was  laid  the  basis  of  a  system  of  abso- 
lute materialism,  which  was  elaborated  and  completed  by  Epi- 
curus, and  has  been  transmitted  to  our  times.  It  has  under- 
gone some  slight  modifications,  adapting  it  to  the  progress  of 
physical  science ;  but  it  is  to-day  substantially  the  theory  of 
Democritus.  In  Democritus  we  have  the  culmination  of  the 
mechanical  theory  of  the  Ionian  or  Physical  school.  In  physics 
and  psychology  it  terminated  in  pure  materialism.  In  theology 
it  ends  in  positive  Atheism. 

The  fundamental  error  of  all  the  philosophers  of  the  physical 
school  was  the  assumption,  tacitly  or  avowedly,  that  sense-per- 
ception is  the  only  source  of  knowledge.  This  was  the  fruitful 
source  of  all  their  erroneous  conclusions,  the  parent  of  all  their 
materialistic  tendencies.  This  led  them  continually  to  seek 
an  apx>h  or  first  principle  of  the  universe,  which  should,  under 
some  form,  be  appreciable  to  sense;  and  consequently  the 
course  of  thought  tended  naturally  towards  materialism. 

Thales  was  unquestionably  a  dualist.  Instructed  by  tradi- 
tional intimations,  or  more  probably  guided  by  the  spontaneous 
apperceptions  of  reason,  he  recognized,  with  more  or  less  dis- 
tinctness, an  incorporeal  Deity  as  the  moving,  animating,  and 
organizing  cause  of  the  universe.  The  idea  of  God  is  a  truth 
so  self-evident  as  to  need  no  demonstration.  The  human  mind 
does  not  attain  to  the  idea  of  a  God  as  the  last  consequence  of 
a  series  of  antecedent  principles.  It  comes  at  once,  by  an  in- 
herent and  necessary  movement  of  thought,  to  the  recognition 
of  God  as  the  First  Principle  of  all  principles.  But  when,  in- 
stead of  hearkening  to  the  simple  and  spontaneous  intuitions 
of  the  mind,  man  turns  to  the  world  of  sense,  and  loses  himself 
in  discursive  thought,  the  conviction  of  a  personal  God  becomes 
obscured.  Then,  amid  the  endlessly  diversified  phenomena  of 
the  universe,  he  seeks  for  a  cause  or  origin  which  in  some  form 

*  Lewes's  "  Biographical  History  of  Philosophy,"  p.  96.  The  words  of 
Democritus,  as  reported  by  Sextus  Empiricus. 


294  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

shall  be  appreciable  to  sense.  The  mere  study  of  material 
phenomena,  scientifically  or  unscientifically  conducted,  will 
never  yield  the  sense  of  the  living  God.  Nature  must  be  in- 
terpreted, can  only  be  interpreted  in  the  light  of  certain  d  pri- 
ori principles  of  reason,  or  we  can  never  "  ascend  from  nature 
up  to  nature's  God."  Within  the  circle  of  mere  sense-percep- 
tion, the  dim  and  undeveloped  consciousness  of  God  will  be 
confounded  with  the  universe.  Thus,  in  Anaximenes,  God  is 
partially  confounded  with  "  air,"  which  becomes  a  symbol ;  then 
a  vehicle  of  the  informing  mind  ;  and  the  result  is  a  semi-pan- 
theism. In  Heraclitus,  the  "ether"  is,  at  first,  a  semi-symbol 
of  the  Deity ;  at  length,  God  is  utterly  confounded  with  this 
ether,  or  "  rational  fire,"  and  the  result  is  a  definite  materialistic 
pantheism.  And,  finally,  when  this  feeling  or  dim  conscious- 
ness of  God,  which  dwells  in  all  human  souls,  is  not  only  dis- 
regarded, but  pronounced  to  be  an  illusion — a  phantasy  5  when 
all  the  analogies  which  intelligence  suggests  are  disregarded, 
and  a  purely  mechanical  theory  of  the  universe  is  adopted,  the 
result  is  the  utter  negation  of  an  Intelligent  Cause,  that  is,  ab- 
solute Atheism^  as  in  Leucippus  and  Democritus. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  295 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE   PHILOSOPHERS   OF   ATHENS   {continued). 
PRE-SOCRATIC  SCHOOL  {continued). 

IDEALIST:   PYTHAGORAS  —  XENOPHANES  —  PARMENIDES  —  ZENO.     NATURAL 
REALIST:  ANAXAGORAS. 

SOCRATIC  SCHOOL. 

SOCRATES. 

IN  the  previous  chapter  we  commenced  our  inquiry  with  the 
assumption  that,  in  the  absence  of  the  true  inductive  method 
of  philosophy  which  observes,  and  classifies,  and  generalizes 
facts,  and  thence  attains  a  general  principle  or  law,  two  only 
methods  were  possible  to  the  early  speculators  who  sought  an 
explanation  of  the  universe — ist.  That  of  reasoning  from  physi- 
cal analogies  ;  or,  2d,  That  of  deduction  from  rational  concep- 
tions, or  d  priori  ideas. 

Accordingly  we  found  that  one  class  of  speculators  fixed 
their  attention  solely  on  the  mere  phenomena  of  nature,  and 
endeavored,  amid  sensible  things,  to  find  a  single  element 
which,  being  more  subtile,  and  pliable,  and  universally  dif- 
fused, could  be  regarded  as  the  ground  and  original  of  all  the 
rest,  and  from  which,  by  a  vital  transformation,  or  by  a  me- 
chanical combination  and  arrangement  of  parts,  all  the  rest 
should  be  evolved.  The  other  class  passed  beyond  the  simple 
phenomena,  and  considered  only  the  abstract  relations  of  phe- 
nomena among  themselves,  or  the  relations  of  phenomena  to 
the  necessary  and  universal  ideas  of  the  reason,  and  supposed 
that,  in  these  relations,  they  had  found  an  explanation  of  the 
universe.  The  former  was  the  Ionian  or  Sensation  school; 
the  latter  was  the  Italian  or  Idealist  school. 

We  have  traced  the  method  according  to  which  the  Ionian 


296  CHRISTIAJ!{ITY  AND 

school  proceeded,  and  estimated  the   results    attained.     We 
now  come  to  consider  the  method  and  results  of 

\ 

THE   ITALIAN   OR   IDEALIST   SCHOOL. 

This  school  we  have  found  to  be  naturally  subdivided  into 
— ist,  The  Mathematical  stci,  which  attempted  the  explanation 
of  the  universe  by  the  abstract  conceptions  of  number,  propor- 
tion, order,  and  harmony ;  and,  2d,  The  Metaphysical  school, 
which  attempted  the  interpretation  of  the  universe  according 
to  the  d  priori  ideas  of  unity,  of  Being  in  se,  of  the  Infinite,  and 
the  Absolute. 

Pythagoras  of  Samos  (born  B.C.  605)  was  the  founder  of  the 
Mathematical  school. 

We  are  conscious  of  the  difficulties  which  are  to  be  encoun- 
tered by  the  student  who  seeks  to  attain  a  definite^  comprehen- 
sion of  the  real  opinions  of  Pythagoras.  The  genuineness  of 
many  of  those  writings  which  were  once  supposed  to  represent 
his  views,  is  now  questioned.  "  Modern  criticism  has  clearly 
shown  that  the  works  ascribed  to  Timaeus  and  Archytas  are 
spurious ;  and  the  treatise  of  Ocellus  Lucanus  on  *  The  Nature 
of  the  Air  can  not  have  been  written  by  a  Pythagorean,"* 
The  only  writers  who  can  be  regarded  as  at  all  reliable  are 
Plato  and  Aristotle ;  and  the  opinions  they  represent  are  not 
so  much  those  of  Pythagoras  as  "  the  Pythagoreans."  This  is 
at  once  accounted  for  by  the  fact  that  Pythagoras  taught  in 
secret,  and  did  not  commit  his  opinions  to  writing.  His  disci- 
ples, therefore,  represent  the  tendency  rather  than  the  actual 
tenets  of  his  system ;  these  were  no  doubt  modified  by  the 
mental  habits  and  tastes  of  his  successors. 

We  may  safely  assume  that  the  proposition  from  which 
Pythagoras  started  was  the  fundamental  idea  of  all  Greek 
speculation — that  beneath  the  fleeting  forms  and  successive  changes 
of  the  imiverse  there  is  some  perma7ient  principle  of  ufiity."^     The 

^  Lewes's  "  Biographical  History  of  Philosophy,"  p.  24. 
"  See  Plato,  "Timaeus,"  ch.  ix.  p.  331  (Bohn's  edition) ;  Aristotle's  "Met- 
aphysics," bk.  V.  ch.  iii. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


297 


Ionian  school  sought  that  principle  in  some  common  physical 
element ;  Pythagoras  sou'ght,  not  for  "elements,"  but  for  "rela- 
tions," and  through  these  relations  for  ultimate  laws  indicating 
primal  forces. 

Aristotle  affirms  that  Pythagoras  taught  "  that  numbers  are 
the  first  principles  of  all  entities,"  and,  "  as  it  were,  a  material 
cause  of  things,"^  or,  in  other  words,  "that  numbers  are  sub- 
stances that  involve  a  separate  subsistence,  and  are  primary 
causes  of  entities."* 

Are  we  then  required  to  accept  the  dictum  of  Aristotle  as 
final  and  decisive  ?  Did  Pythagoras  really  teach  that  numbers 
are  real  entities — the  substance  and  cause  of  all  other  exist- 
ences ?  The  reader  may  be  aware  that  this  is  a  point  upon 
which  the  historians  of  philosophy  are  not  agreed.  Ritter  is 
decidedly  of  opinion  that  the  Pythagorean  formula  "  can  only 
be  taken  symbolically."^  Lewes  insists  it  must  be  understood 
literally.*  On  a  careful  review  of  all  the  arguments,  we  are 
constrained  to  regard  the  conclusion  of  Ritter  as  most  reason- 
able. The  hypothesis  "that  numbers  are  real  entities"  does 
violence  to  every  principle  of  common  sense.  This  alone  con- 
stitutes a  strong  d  priori  presumption  that  Pythagoras  did  not 
entertain  so  glaring  an  absurdity.  The  man  who  contributed 
so  much  towards  perfecting  the  mathematical  sciences,  who 
played  so  conspicuous  a  part  in  the  development  of  ancient 
philosophy,  and  who  exerted  so  powerful  a  determining  influ- 
ence on  the  entire  current  of  speculative  thought,  did  not  ob- 
tain his  ascendency  over  the  intellectual  manhood  of  Greece 
by  the  utterance  of  such  enigmas.  And  further,  in  interpret- 
ing the  philosophic  opinions  of  the  ancients,  we  must  be  guided 
by  this  fundamental  canon — "  The  human  mind  has,  under  the 
necessary  operation  of  its  own  laws,  been  compelled  to  enter- 
tain the  same  fundamental  ideas,  and  the  human  heart  to  cher- 
ish the  same  feelings  in  all  ages."     Now  if  a  careful  philo- 

^  Aristotle's  "  Metaphysics,"  bk.  i.  ch.  v.  "^  Id,  ib.,  bk.  xii.  ch.  vl 

^  "  History  of  Ancient  Philosophy,"  vol.  i.  p.  359. 
*  "  Biographical  History  of  Philosophy,"  p.  38. 


298  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

sophic  criticism  can  not  render  the  reported  opinions  of  an  an- 
cient teacher  into  the  universal  language  of  the  reason  and 
heart  of  humanity,  we  must  conclude  either  that  his  opinions 
were  misunderstood  and  misrepresented  by. some  of  his  suc- 
cessors, or  else  that  he  stands  in  utter  isolation,  both  from  the 
present  and  the  past.  His  doctrine  has,  then,  no  relation  to 
the  successions  of  thought,  and  no  place  in  the  history  of  phi-' 
losophy.  Nay,  more,  such  a  doctrine  has  in  it  no  element  of 
vitality,  no  germ  of  eternal  truth,  and  must  speedily  perish. 
Now  it  is  well  known  that  the  teaching  of  Pythagoras  awaken- 
ed the  deepest  intellectual  sympathy  of  his  age ;  that  his  doc- 
trine exerted  a  powerful  influence  on  the  mind  of  Plato,  and, 
through  him,  upon  succeeding  ages ;  and  that,  in  some  of  its 
aspects,  it  now  survives,  and  is  more  influential  to-day  than  in 
any  previous  age ;  but  this  element  of  immutable  and  eternal 
truth  was  certainly  not  contained  in  the  inane  and  empty  for- 
mula, "  that  numbers  are  real  existences,  the  causes  of  all  other 
existences !"  If  the  fame  of  Pythagoras  had  rested  on  such 
"  airy  nothings,"  it  would  have  melted  away  before  the  time  of 
Plato. 

We  grant  there  is  considerable  force  in  the  argument  of 
Lewes.  He  urges,  with  some  pertinence,  the  unquestionable 
fact  that  Aristotle  asserts,  again  and  again,  that  the  Pythago- 
reans taught  "  that  numbers  are  the  principles  and  substance 
of  things  as  well  as  the  causes  of  their  modifications ;"  and  he 
argues  that  we  are  not  justified  in  rejecting  the  authority  of 
Aristotle,  unless  better  evidence  can  be  produced. 

So  far,  however,  as  the  authority  of  Aristotle  is  concerned, 
even  Lewes  himself  charges  him,  in  more  than  one  instance, 
with  strangely  misrepresenting  the  opinions  of  his  predeces- 
sors.^    Aristotle  is  evidently  wanting  in  that  impartiality  which 

*  "  Aristotle  uniformly  speaks  disparagingly  of  Anaxagoras "  (Lewes's 
"Biographical  History  of  Philosophy").  He  represents  him  as  employ- 
ing mind  {yovq)  simply  as  "a  machine''''  for  the  production  of  the  world; — 
"  when  he  finds  himself  in  perplexity  as  to  the  cause  of  its  being  necessarily 
an  orderly  system,  he  then  drags  it  (mind)  in  by  force  to  his  assistance " 
("  Metaphysics,"  bk.  i.  ch.  iv.).     But  he  is  evidently  inconsistent  with  himself, 


GREEK  PHIL 0 SOPHY. 


299 


ought  to  characterize  the  historian  of  philosophy,  and,  some- 
times, we  are  compelled  to  question  his  integrity.  Indeed, 
throughout  his  "Metaphysics"  he  exhibits  the  egotism  and 
vanity  of  one  who  imagines  that  he  alone,  of  all  men,  has  the 
full  vision  of  the  truth.  In  Books  I.  and  XII.  he  uniformly  as- 
sociates the  ''''numbers^''  of  Pythagoras  with  the  ^^forms^^  and 
" ideas"  of  Flato.  He  asserts  that  Plato  identifies  "forms" 
and  "  numbers,"  and  regards  them  as  real  entities — substances, 
and  causes  of  all  other  things.  ''''Forms  are  numbers^. ...  so 
Plato  affirmed,  similar  with  the  Pythagoreans ;  and  the  dogma 
that  numbers  are  causes  to  other  things — of  their  substance — 
he^  in  like  manner,  asserted  with  them."^  And  then,  finally,  he 
employs  the  same  arguments  in  refuting  the  doctrines  of  both. 

Now  the  writings  of  Plato  are  all  extant  to-day,  and  accessi- 
ble in  an  excellent  English  translation  to  any  of  our  readers. 
Cousin  has  shown,^  most  conclusively  (and  we  can  verify  his 
conclusions  for  ourselves),  that  Aristotle  has  totally  misrepre- 
sented Plato.  And  if,  in  the  same  connection,  and  in  the  course 
of  the  same  argument,  and  in  regard  to  the  same  subjects,  he 
misrepresents  Plato,  it  is  most  probable  he  also  misrepresents 
Pythagoras. 

for  in  "De  Anima"  (bk.  i.  ch.  ii.)  he  tells  us  that  "Anaxagoras  saith  that 
mind  is  at  once  a  cause  of  motion  in  the  whole  universe,  and  also  oiwell  and 
fity  We  may  further  ask,  is  not  the  idea  of  fitness — of  the  good  and  the 
befitting — the  final  cause,  even  according  to  Aristotle  ? 

He  also  totally  misrepresents  Plato's  doctrine  of  "  Ideas."  "  Plato's 
Ideas,"  he  says,  "  are  substantial  existences — real  beings  "  ('*  Metaphysics," 
bk.  i.  ch.  ix.).  Whereas,  as  we  shall  subsequently  show,  "they  are  objects 
of  pure  conception  for  human  reason,  and  they  are  attributes  of  the  Divine 
Reason.  It  is  there  they  substantially  exist "  (Cousin,  "  History  of  Philos- 
ophy," vol,  i.  p.  415).  It  is  also  pertinent  to  inquire,  what  is  the  difference 
between  the  "  formal  cause  "  of  Aristotle  and  the  archetypal  ideas  of  Plato  ? 
and  is  not  Plato's  to  ayaddv  the  "  final  cause  ?"  Yet  Aristotle  is  forever 
congratulating  himself  that  he  alone  has  properly  treated  the  "  formal "  and 
the  "  final  cause  !" 

^  This,  however,  was  not  the  doctrine  of  Plato.  He  does  not  say  "  forms 
are  numbers,"  He  says  :  "  God  formed  things  as  they  first  arose  according 
to  forms  and-  numbers."     See  "  Timaeus,"  ch.  xiv.  and  xxvii. 

^  Aristotle's  "  Metaphysics,"  bk.  i.  ch.  vi. 

^  "  The  True,  the  Beautiful,  and  the  Good,"  pp.  77-81. 


300  CHEISTIANITY  AND 

It  is,  however,  a  matter  of  the  deepest  interest  for  us  to  find 
the  evidence  gleaming  out  here  and  there,  on  the  pages  of  Ar- 
istotle, that  he  had  some  knowledge  of  the  fact  that  the  Pytha- 
gorean numbers  were  regarded  as  symbols.  The  "  numbers  " 
of  Pythagoras  are,  in  the  mind  of  Aristotle,  clearly  identified 
with  the  "  forms  "  of  Plato.  Now,  in  Chapter  VI.  of  the  First 
Book  he  says  that  Plato  taught  that  these  "  forms "  were 
Trapahiyfiara — models,  patterns,  exemplars  after  which  created 
things  were  framed.  The  numbers  of  Pythagoras,  then,  are 
also  models  and  exemplars.  This  also  is  admitted  by  Aris- 
totle. "  The  Pythagoreans  indeed  affirm  that  entities  subsist  by 
an  imitation  (fjiiiJir]aiQ)  of  numbers.^  Now  if  ideas,  forms,  num- 
bers, were  the  models  or  paradigms  after  which  "  the  Opera- 
tor" formed  all  things,  surely  it  can  not  be  logical  to  say  they 
were  the  "  material "  out  of  which  all  things  were  framed,  much 
less  the  "  efficient  cause  "  of  things.  The  most  legitimate  con- 
clusion we  can  draw,  even  from  the  statements  of  Aristotle,  is 
that  the  Pythagoreans  regarded  numbers  as  the  best  expres- 
sion or  representation  of  those  laws  of  proportion,  and  order, 
and  harmony,  which  seemed,  to  their  eyes,  to  pervade  the  uni- 
verse. Their  doctrine  was  a  faint  glimpse  of  that  grand  dis- 
covery of  modern  science — that  all  the  higher  laws  of  nature 
assume  the  form  of  a  precise  quantitative  statement. 

The  fact  seems  to  be  this,  the  Pythagoreans  busied  them- 
selves chiefly  with  what  Aristotle  designates  "the  formal 
cause,"  and  gave  little  attention  to  the  inquiry  concerning  "the 
material  cdMse,"  This  is  admitted  by  Aristotle.  "  Concerning 
fire,  or  earth,  or  the  other  bodies  of  such  kind,  they  have  de- 
clared nothing  whatsoever,  inasmuch  as  affirming,  in  my  opin- 
ion, nothing  that  is  peculiar  concerning  sensible  natures.**  They 
looked,  as  we  have  previously  remarked,  to  the  relations  of 
phenomena,  and  having  discovered  certain  "numerical  simili- 
tudes," they  imagined  they  had  attained  an  universal  principle, 
or  law.  "  If  all  the  essential  properties  and  attributes  of  things 
were  fully  represented  by  the  relations  of  numbers,  the  philoso- 

*  Aristotle's  "  Metaphysics,"  bk.  i.  ch.  vi.  ^  Id.,  ib.,  bk.  i.  ch.  ix. 


OF   THE  ^ 

OBEEK  PHILOSOPHY.    ((XJITIVBSSIT 

phy  which  supplied  such  an  explanation  of  theStj^^g«M^^  ■>^\v* 
well  be  excused  from  explaining,  also,  that  existenc^^^tobjects, 
which  is  distinct  from  the  existence  of  all  their  qualities  and 
properties.  The  Pythagorean  doctrine  of  numbers  might  have 
been  combined  with  the  doctrine  of  atoms,  and  the  combination 
might  have  led  to  results  worthy  of  notice.  But,  so  far  as  we 
are  aware,  no  such  combination  was  attempted,  and  perhaps 
we  of  the  present  day  are  only  just  beginning  to  perceive, 
through  the  disclosures  of  chemistry  and  crystallography,  the 
importance  of  such  an  inquiry."^ 

These  preliminary  considerations  will  have  cleared  and  pre- 
pared the  way  for  a  fuller  presentation  of  the  philosophic  sys- 
tem of  Pythagoras.  The  most  comprehensive  and  satisfactory 
exposition  of  his  "  method  "  is  that  given  by  Wm.  Archer  But- 
ler in  his  ^^ Lectures  on  Ancieftt  Philosophy, ^^  and  we  feel  we  can 
not  do  better  than  condense  his  pages.'* 

Pythagoras  had  long  devoted  his  intellectual  adoration  to 
the  lofty  idea  of  order,  which  seemed  to  reveal  itSelf  to  his 
mind,  as  the  presiding  genius  of  the  serene  and  silent  world. 
He  had,  from  his  youth,  dwelt  with  delight  upon  the  eternal  re- 
lations of  space,  and  determinate  form,  and  number,  in  which 
the  very  idea  oi  proportion  seems  to  find  its  first  and  immedi- 
ate development,  and  without  the  latter  of  which  (number),  all 
proportion  is  absolutely  inconceivable.  To  this  ardent  genius, 
whose  inventive  energies  were  daily  adding  new  and  surprising 
contributions  to  the  sum  of  discoverable  relations,  it  at  length 
began  to  appear  as  if  the  whole  secret  of  the  universe  was  hid- 
den in  these  mysterious  correspondences. 

In  making  this  extensive  generalization,  Pythagoras  may,  on 
his  known  principles,  be  supposed  to  have  reasoned  as  follows : 
The  mind  of  man  perceives  the  relations  of  an  eternal  order  in 
the  proportions  of  space,  and  form,  and  number.  That  mind 
is,  no  doubt,  a  portion  of  the  soul  which  animates  and  governs 
the  universe ;  for  on  what  other  supposition  shall  we  account 

*  Whewell's  "  History  of  Inductive  Sciences,"  vol.  i.  p.  78. 
'  Lecture  VI.  vol.  i. 


302  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

for  its  internal  principle  of  activity — the  very  principle  which 
characterizes  the  prime  mover,  and  can  scarce  be  ascribed  to 
an  inferior  nature?  And  on  what  other  supposition  are  we  to 
explain  the  identity  which  subsists  between  the  principles  of 
order,  authenticated  by  the  reason  and  the  facts  of  order  which 
are  found  to  exist  in  the  forms  and  multiplicities  around  us,  and 
independent  of  us?  Can  this  sameness  be  other  than  the 
sameness  of  the  internal  and  external  principles  of  a  common 
nature  ?  The  proportions  of  the  universe  inhere  in  its  divine 
soul ;  they  are  indeed  its  very  essence,  or  at  least,  its  attributes. 
The  ideas  or  principles  of  Order  which  are  implanted  in  the 
human  reason,  must  inhere  in  the  Divine  Reason,  and  must  be 
reflected  in  the  visible  world,  which  is  its  product.  Man,  then, 
can  boldly  afiirm  the  necessary  harmony  of  the  world,  because 
he  has  in  his  own  mind  a  revelation  which  declares  that  the 
world,  in  its  real  structure,  must  be  the  image  and  copy  of  that 
dXVvn^  proportion  which  he  inwardly  adores.^ 

Again,  the  world  is  assuredly  perfect^  as  being  the  sensible 
image  and  copy  of  the  Divinity,  the  outward  and  multiple  de- 
velopment of  the  Eternal  Unity.  It  must,  therefore,  when 
thoroughly  known  and  properly  interpreted,  answer  to  all  which 

^  It  is  an  opinion  which  goes  as  far  back  as  the  time  of  Plato,  and  even 
Pythagoras,  and  has  ever  since  been  widely  entertained,  that  beauty  oiform 
consists  in  some  sort  oi  proportion  or  harmony  which  may  admit  of  a  math- 
ematical expression ;  and  later  and  more  scientific  research  is  altogether  in 
its  favor.  It  is  now  established  that  complementary  colors,  that  is,  colors 
which  when  combined  make  up  the  full  beam,  are  felt  to  be  beautiful  when 
seen  simultaneously ;  that  is,  the  mind  is  made  to  delight  in  the  unities  of 
nature.  At  the  basis  of  music  there  are  certain  fixed  ratios  ;  and  in  poetry, 
of  every  description,  there  are  measures,  and  correspondencies.  Pythagoras 
has  often  been  ridiculed  for  his  doctrine  of  "  the  music  of  the  spheres ;" 
and  probably  his  doctrine  was  somewhat  fanciful,  but  later  science  shows 
that  there  is  a  harmony  in  all  nature — in  its  forms,  in  its  forces,  and  in  its 
motions.  The  highest  unorganized  and  all  organized  objects  take  definite 
forms  which  are  regulated  by  mathematical  laws.  The  forces  of  nature  can  be 
estimated  in  numbers,  and  light  and  heat  go  in  undulations,  whilst  the  move- 
ments of  the  great  bodies  in  nature  admit  of  a  precise  quantitative  expres- 
sion. The  harmonies  of  nature  in  respect  of  color,  of  number,  of  form,  and 
of  time  are  forcibly  exhibited  in  "  Typical  Forms  and  Special  Ends  in  Cre- 
ation," by  M'Cosh. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


303 


we  can  conceive  as  perfect ;  that  is,  it  must  be  regulated  by  laws, 
of  which  we  have  the  highest  principles  in  those  first  and  ele- 
mentary properties  of  numbers  which  stand  next  to  unity. 
"  The  world  is  then,  through  all  its  departments,  a  living  arith- 
metic in  its  development^  a  realized  geometry  in  its  repose.^"*  It  is 
a  KoafxoQ  (for  the  word  is  purely  Pythagorean) — the  expression 
of  harmony,  the  manifestation,  to  sense,  of  everlasting  order. 

Though  Pythagoras  found  in  geometry  the  fitting  initiative 
for  abstract  speculation,  it  is  remarkable  that  he  himself  pre- 
ferred to  constitute  the  science  of  Numbers  as  the  true  repre- 
sentative of  the  laws  of  the  universe.  The  reason  appears  to 
be  this  :  that  though  geometry  speaks  indeed  of  eternal  truths, 
yet  when  the  notion  of  symmetry  and  proportion  is  introduced, 
it  is  often  necessary  to  insist,  in  preference,  upon  the  properties 
of  numbers.  Hence,  though  the  universe  displays  the  geometry 
of  its  Constructor  or  Animator,  yet  nature  was  eminently  de- 
fined as  the  fxifxr](Tig  Tujv  apidfjiuiv — the  imitation  of  numbers. 

The  key  to  all  the  Pythagorean  dogmas,  then,  seems  to  be 
the  general  formula  of  unity  in  multiplicity:  —  unity  either 
evolving  itself  into  multiplicity,  or  unity  discovered  as  pervading 
multiplicity.  The  principle  of  all  things,  the  same  principle 
which  in  this  philosophy,  as  in  others,  was  customarily  called 
Deity,  is  the  primitive  unit  from  which  all  proceeds  in  the  ac- 
cordant relations  of  the  universal  scheme.  Into  the  sensible 
world  of  multitude,  the  all-pervading  Unity  has  infused  his  own 
ineffable  nature ;  he  has  impressed  his  own  image  upon  that 
world  which  is  to  represent  him  in  the  sphere  of  sense  and 
man.  What,  then,  is  that  which  is  at  once  single  and  multiple, 
identical  and  diversified — which  we  perceive  as  the  combina- 
tion of  a  thousand  elements,  yet  as  the  expression  of  a  single 
spirit — ^which  is  a  chaos  to  the  sense,  a  cosmos  to  the  reason  t 
What  is  it  but  harmony — proportion — the  one  governing  the 
many,  the  many  lost  in  the  one?  The  world  is  therefore  a 
harmony  in  innumerable  degrees,  from  the  most  complicated 
to  the  most  simple :  it  is  now  a  Triad,  combining  the  Monad 
and  the  Duad,  and  partaking  of  the  nature  of  both ;  now  a  Tet- 


304  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

rad,  the  form  of  perfection ;  now  a  Decad,  which,  in  combining 
the  four  former,  involves,  in  its  mystic  nature,  all  the  possible 
accordances  of  the  universe/ 

The  psychology  of  the  Pythagoreans  was  greatly  modified 
by  their  physical,  and  still  more,  by  their  moral  tenets.  The 
soul  was  apidfioQ  kavTov  kivCjv — a  self-moving  number  or  Monad, 
the  copy  (as  we  have  seen)  of  that  Infinite  Monad  which  unfolds 
from  its  own  incomprehensible  essence  all  the  relations  of  the 
universe.  This  soul  has  three  elements,  Reason  {vovq),  Intelli- 
gence (0p^v),  and  Passion  (Ov/jloq).  The  two  last,  man  has  in 
common  with  brutes,  the  first  is  his  grand  and  peculiar  charac- 
teristic. It  has,  hence,  been  argued  that  Pythagoras  could  not 
have  held  the  doctrine  of  "transmigration."  This  clear  separa- 
tion of  man  from  the  brute,  by  this  signal  endowment  of  rea- 
son, which  is  sempiternal,  seems  a  refutation  of  those  who  charge 
him  with  the  doctrine. 

In  the  department  of  morals,  the  legislator  of  Crotona  found 
his  appropriate  sphere.  In  his  use  of  numerical  notation,  moral 
good  was  essential  unity — evil,  essential  plurality  and  division. 
In  the  fixed  truths  of  mathematical  abstractions  he  found  the 
exemplars  of  social  and  personal  virtue.  The  rule  or  law  of 
all  morality  is  resemblance  to  God  ;  that  is,  the  return  of  num- 
ber to  its  root,  to  unity,''  and  virtue  is  thus  a  harmony. 

Thus  have  we,  in  Pythagoras,  the  dawn  of  an  Idealist  school ; 

for  mathematics  are  founded  upon  abstractions,  and  there  is 

consequently  an  intimate  connection  between  mathematics  and 

idealism.     The  relations  of  space,  and  number,  and  determinate 

form,  are,  like  the  relations  of  cause  and  effect,  of  phenomena 

and  substance,  perceptible  only  in  thought;  and  the  mind  which 

has   been   disciplined  to   abstract   thought  by   the   study  of 

mathematics,  is  prepared  and  disposed  for  purely  metaphysical 

studies.     "The  looking  into  mathematical  learning  is  a  kind 

*  That  is,  14-24-3-1-4  =  10.     There  are  intimations  that  the  Pythagoreans 
regarded  the  Monad  as  God,  the  Duad  as  matter,  the  Triad  as  the  complex 
phenomena  of  the  world,  the  Tetrad  as  the  completeness  of  all  its  relations, 
the  Decad  as  the  cosmos,  or  harmonious  whole. 
*  Aristotle,  "  Nichomachian  Ethics,"  bk.  i.  ch.  vi. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  305 

of  prelude  to  the  contemplation  of  real  being."^  Therefore 
Plato  inscribed  over  the  door  of  his  academy, "Let  none  but 
Geometricians  enter  here."  To  the  mind  thus  disciplined  in 
abstract  thinking,  the  conceptions  and  ideas  of  reason  have 
equal  authority,  sometimes  even  superior  authority,  to  the  per- 
ceptions of  sense. 

Now  if  the  testimony  of  both  reason  and  sense,  as  given  in 
consciousness,  is  accepted  as  of  equal  authority,  and  each  facul- 
ty is  regarded  as,  within  its  own  sphere,  a  source  of  real,  valid 
knowledge,  then  a  consistent  and  harmonious  system  of  Natu- 
ral Realism  or  Natural  Dualism  will  be  the  result.  If  the  tes- 
timony of  sense  is  questioned  and  distrusted,  and  the  mind  is 
denied  any  immediate  knowledge  of  the  sensible  world,  and 
yet  the  existence  of  an  external  world  is  maintained  by  various 
hypotheses  and  reasonings,  the  consequence  will  be  a  species  of 
Hypothetical  Dualism  or  Cosmothetic  Idealism.  But  if  the  affir- 
mations of  reason,  as  to  the  unity  of  the  cosmos,  are  alone  ac- 
cepted, and  the  evidence  of  the  senses,  as  to  the  variety  and 
multiplicity  of  the  world,  is  entirely  disregarded,  then  we  have 
a  system  of  Absolute  Idealism.  Pythagoras  regarded  the  har- 
mony which  pervades  the  diversified  phenomena  of  the  outer 
world  as  a  manifestation  of  the  unity  of  its  eternal  principle,  or 
as  the  perpetual  evolution  of  that  unity,  and  the  consequent 
tendency  of  his  system  was  to  depreciate  the  sefisible.  Follow- 
ing out  this  tendency,  the  Eleatics  first  neglected,  and  finally 
denied  the  variety  of  the  universe — denied  the  real  existence 
of  the  external  world,  and  asserted  an  absolute  metaphysical 
unity. 

Xenophanes  of  Colophon^  in  Ionia  (b.c.  616-516),  was  the 
founder  of  this  celebrated  school  of  Elea.  He  left  Ionia,  and 
arrived  in  Italy  about  the  same  time  as  Pythagoras,  bringing 
with  him  to  Italy  his  Ionian  tendencies  j  he  there  amalgamated 
them  with  Pythagorean  speculations. 

Pythagoras  had  succeeded  in  fixing  the  attention   of  his 
countrymen  on  the  harmony  which  pervades  the  material  world, 
^  Alcinous,  "  Introduction  to  the  Doctrines  of  Plato,"  ch.  vii. 
20 


3o6  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

and  had  taught  them  to  regard  that  harmony  as  the  manifesta- 
tion of  the  intelligence,  and  unity,  and  perfection  of  its  eternal 
principle.  Struck  with  this  idea  of  harmony  and  of  unity, 
Xenophanes,  who  was  a  poet,  a  rhapsodist,  and  therefore  by 
native  tendency,  rather  than  by  intellectual  discipline,  an  Ideal- 
ist, begins  already  to  attach  more  importance  to  zmity  than 
multiplicity  in  his  philosophy  of  nature.  He  regards  the  testi- 
mony of  reason  as  of  more  authority  than  the  testimony  of 
sense ;  "  and  he  holds  badly  enough  the  balance  between  the 
unity  of  the  Pythagoreans  and  the  variety  which  Heraclitus 
and  the  lonians  had  alone  considered."^ 

We  are  not,  however,  to  suppose  that  Xenophanes  denied 
entirely  the  existence  oi plurality.  "  The  great  Rhapsodist  of 
Truth  "  was  guided  by  the  spontaneous  intuitions  of  his  mind 
(which  seemed  to  partake  of  the  character  of  an  inspiration), 
to  a  clearer  vision  of  the  truth  than  were  his  successors  of  the 
same  school. by  their  discursive  reasonings.  "The  One"  of 
Xenophanes  was  clearly  distinguished  from  the  outward  uni- 
verse {to.  TToXXa)  on  the  one  hand,  and  from  the  ^^  fion-e?is^^  on 
the  other.  It  was  his  disciple,  Parmenides,  who  imagined  the 
logical  necessity  of  identifying  plurality  with  the  "non-e?ts,^^  and 
thus  denying,  all  immediate  cognition  of  the  phenomenal  world. 
The  compactness  and  logical  coherence  of  the  system  of  Par- 
menides seems  to  have  had  a  peculiar  charm  for  the  Grecian 
mind,  and  to  have  diverted  the  eyes  of  antiquity  from  the  views 
of  the  more  earnest  and  devout  Xenophanes,  whose  opinions 
were  too  often  confounded  with  those  of  his  successors  of  the 
Eleatic  school.  "  Accordingly  we  find  that  Xenophanes  has 
obtained  credit  for  much  that  is,  exclusively,  the  property  of 
Parmenides  and  Zeno,  in  particular  for  denying  plurality,  and 
for  identifying  God  with  the  universe."* 

In  theology,  Xenophanes  was  unquestionably  a  Theist.     He 

^  Cousin,  "  History  of  Philosophy,"  vol.  i.  p.  440. 

'  See  note  by  editor,  W.  H.  Thompson,  M.A.,  on  pages  331,  332  of  But- 
ler's "  Lectures,"  vol.  i.  His  authorities  are  "  Fragments  of  Xenophanes  " 
and  the  treatise  "  De  Melisso,  Xenophane,  et  Gorgia,"  by  Aristotle. 


GREEK  PniLO SOPHY.  '    307 


* 


had  a  profound  and  earnest  conviction  of  the  existence  of  a 
God,  and  he  ridiculed  with  sarcastic  force,  the  anthropomorphic 
absurdities  of  the  popular  religion.  This  one.  God,  he  taught, 
was  self-existent,  eternal,  and  infinite ;  supreme  in  power,  in 
goodness,  and  intelligence.'  These  characteristics  are  ascribed 
to  the  Deity  in  the  sublime  words  with  which  he  opens  his 
philosophic  poem — 

"  There  is  one  God,  of  all  beings,  divine  and  human,  the  greatest : 
Neither  in  body  alike  unto  mortals,  neither  in  mind." 

He  has  no  parts,  no  organs,  as  men  have,  being 

"  All  sight,  all  ear,  all  intelligence  ; 
Wholly  exempt  from  toil,  he  sways  all  things  by  thought  and  wilV'^ 


Xenophanes  also  taught  that  God  is  "uncreated"  or  "un- 
caused," and  that  he  is  "excellent"  as  well  as  "all-powerful."^ 
And  yet,  regardless  of  these  explicit  utterances,  Lewes  cautions 
his  readers  against  supposing  that,  by  the  "  one  God,"  Xeno- 
phanes meant  a  Personal  God ;  and  he  asserts  that  his  Mono- 
theism was  Pantheism.  A  doctrine,  however,  which  ascribes 
to  the  Divine  Being  moral  as  well  as  intellectual  supremacy, 
which  acknowledges  an  outward  world  distinct  from  Him,  and 
which  represents  Him  as  causing  the  changes  in  that  universe 
by  the  acts  of  an  intelligent  volition,  can  only  by  a  strange  per- 
version of  language  be  called  pantheism. 

Parmenides  of  Elea  (born  B.C.  536)  was  the  philosopher  who 
framed  the  psychological  opinions  of  the  Idealist  school  into  a 
precise  and  comprehensive  system.  He  was  the  first  carefully 
to  distinguish  between  Truth  (aXrjdeiar)  and  Opinion  (Bo^av)  — 
between  ideas  obtained  through  the  reason  and  the  simple  per- 
ceptions of  sense.  Assuming  that  reason  and  sense  are  the 
only  sources  of  knowledge,  he  held  that  they  furnish  the  mind 
with  two  distinct  classes  of  cognitions — one  variable,  fleeting, 

^  Lewes's  "  Biographical  History  of  Philosophy,"  p.  38 ;  Ritter's  "  His- 
tory of  Ancient  Philosophy,"  vol.  i.  pp.  428,  429. 

^  Ritter's  "  History  of  Ancient  Philosophy,"  vol.  i.  pp.  432,  434. 

^  Butler's  "Lectures,"  vol.  i.  p.  331,  note  ;  Ritter's  "  History  of  Ancient 
Philosophy,"  vol.  i.  p.  428. 


3o8  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

and  uncertain ;  the  other  immutable,  necessary,  and  eternal. 
Sense  is  dependent  on  the  variable  organization  of  the  individ- 
ual, and  therefore  its  evidence  is  changeable,  uncertain,  and 
nothing  but  a  mere  ^^  seeming.'"  Reason  is  the  same  in  all  in- 
dividuals, and  therefore  its  evidence  is  constant,  real,  and  true. 
Philosophy  is,  therefore,  divided  into  two  branches — Physics 
and  Metaphysics ;  one,  a  science  of  absolute  knowledge  \  the 
other,  a  science  of  mere  appearances.  The  first  science.  Phys- 
ics, is  pronounced  illusory  and  uncertain;  the  latter.  Meta- 
physics, is  infallible  and  immutable.^ 

Proceeding  on  these  principles,  he  rejects  the  dualistic  sys- 
tem of  the  universe,  and  boldly  declared  that  all  essences  are 
fundamentally  one — that,  in  fact,  there  is  no  real  plurality,  and 
that  all  the  diversity  which  "appears"  is  merely  presented 
under  a  peculiar  aesthetic  or  sensible  law.  The  senses,  it  is 
true,  teach  us  that  there  are  "  many  things,"  but  reason  affirms 
that,  at  bottom,  there  exists  only  "the  one."  Whatever,  there- 
fore, manifests  itself  in  the  field  of  sense  is  merely  illusory — 
the  mental  representation  of  a  phenomenal  world,  which  to  ex- 
perience seems  diversified,  but  which  reason  can  not  possibly 
admit  to  be  other  than  "immovable"  and  "one."  There  is 
but  one  Being  in  the  universe,  eternal,  immovable,  absolute ; 
and  of  this  unconditioned  being  all  phenomenal  existences, 
whether  material  or  mental,  are  but  the  attributes  and  modes. 
Hence  the  two  great  maxims  of  the  Eleatic  school,  derived 
from  Parmenides — rh  izavra  tV,  '•^  The  All  is  One,"  and  to  ahrb 
voEiv  re  KoX  elvai  (Idem  est  cogitare  atque  esse),  "Thought  and 
Being  are  identical."  The  last  remarkable  dictum  is  the  fun- 
damental principle  of  the  modern  pantheistic  doctrine  of  "  ab- 
solute identity "  as  taught  by  Schelling  and  Hegel.'' 

Lewes  asserts  that  "  Parmenides  did  not,  with  Xenophanes, 
call  'the  One'  God;  he  called  it  Being."^  In  support  of  this 
statement  he,  however,  cites  no  ancient  authorities.     We  are 

^  Ritter's  "History  of  Ancient  Philosophy,"  vol.  i.  pp.  447,  451. 

^  Id.,  ib.,  vol.  i.  pp.  450,  455. 

^  "  Biographical  History  of  Philosophy,"  p.  50. 


GREEK  nilLOSOPHY.  309 

therefore  justified  in  rejecting  his  opinion,  and  receiving  the 
testimony  of  Simplicius,  "  the  only  authority  for  the  fragments 
of  the  Eleatics,"^  and  who  had  a  copy  of  the  philosophic  poems 
of  Parmenides.  He  assures  us  that  Parmenides  and  Xeno- 
phanes  "affirmed  that  ^the  0?te,^  or  unity,  was  the  first  Princi- 
ple of  all, they  meaning  by  this  One  that  highest  or  siip7'eme 

God,  as  being  the  cause  of  unity  to  all  things.  " "It  re- 

maineth,  therefore,  that  that  Intelligence  which  is  the  cause  of 
all  things,  and  therefore  of  mind  and  understanding  also,  in 
which  all  things  are  comprehended  in  unity,  was  Parmenides' 
one  Ens  or  Being. '"^  Parmenides  was,  therefore,  a  spiritualistic 
or  idealistic  Pantheist. 

Zeno  of  E lea  (born  B.C.  500)  was  the  logician  of  the  Eleatic 
school.  He  was,  says  Diogenes  Laertius,  "  the  inventor  of  Di- 
alectics."^ Logic  henceforth  becomes  the  opyavov'^ — organon 
of  the  Eleatics. 

This  organon,  however,  Zeno  used  very  imperfectly.  In  his 
hands  it  was  simply  the  "  reductio  ad  absurdum "  of  opposing 
opinions  as  the  means  of  sustaining  the  tenets  of  his  own  sect. 
Parmenides  had  asserted,  on  <:^/r/^r/ grounds,  the  existence  of 
"the  One."  Zeno  would  prove  by  his  dialectic  the  non-exist- 
ence of  "the  many."  His  grand  position  was  that  all  phe- 
nomena, all  that  appears  to  sense,  is  but  a  modification  of  the 
absolute  One.  And  he  displays  a  vast  amount  of  dialectic 
subtilty  in  the  effort  to  prove  that  all  "  appearances "  are  un- 
real, and  that  all  movement  and  change  is  a  mere  "seeming" 
— not  a  reality.  What  men  call  motion  is  only  a  name  given 
to  a  series  of  conditions,  each  of  which,  considered  separately, 
is  rest.  "Rest  is  force  resistant;  motion  is  force  triumphant."^ 
The  famous  puzzle  of  "Achilles  and  the  Tortoise,"  by  which 
he  endeavored  to  prove  the  unreality  of  motion,  has  been  ren- 
dered familiar  to  the  English  reader.^ 

^  Encyclopsedia  Britannica,  article  "  Simplicius." 

"^  Cudworth's  "Intellectual  System,"  vol.  i.  p.  511. 

^  "  Lives,"  p.  387  (Bohn's  edition).  *  Plato  in  "  Parmen." 

^  Lewes's  "  Biographical  History  of  Philosophy,"  p.  60. 

®  Ritter's  "  History  of  Ancient  Philosophy,"  vol.  i.  pp.  475,  476. 


3IO  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

Aristotle  assures  us  that  Zeno,  "  by  his  one  Ens,  which  nei- 
ther was  moved  nor  movable,  meaneth  God."  And  he  also  in- 
forms us  that  "  Zeno  endeavored  to  demonstrate  that  there  is 
but  one  God,  from  the  idea  which  all  men  have  of  him,  as  that 
which  is  the  best,  supremest,  most  powerful  of  all,  or  an  abso- 
lutely perfect  being"  ("De  Xenophane,  Zenone,  et  Gorgia").^ 

With  Zeno  we  close  our  survey  of  the  second  grand  line  of 
independent  inquiry  by  which  philosophy  sought  to  solve  the 
problem  of  the  universe.  The  reader  will  be  struck  with  the 
resemblance  which  subsists  between  the  history  of  its  develop- 
ment and  that  of  the  modern  Idealist  school.  'Pythagoras  was 
the  Descartes,  Parmenides  the  Spinoza,  and  Zeno  the  Hegel 
of  the  Italian  school. 

In  this  survey  of  the  speculations  of  the  pre-Socratic  schools 
of  philosophy,  we  have  followed  the  course  of  two  opposite 
streams  of  thought  which  had  their  common  origin  in  one  fun- 
damental principle  or  law  of  the  human  mind — the  intuition  of 
unity — "  or  the  desire  to  comprehend  all  the  facts  of  the  uni- 
verse in  a  single  formula,  and  consummate  all  conditional 
knowledge  in  the  unity  of  unconditioned  existence."  The  his- 
tory of  this  tendency  is,  in  fact,  the  history  of  all  philosophy. 
"  The  end  of  all  philosophy,"  says  Plato,  "  is  the  intuition  of 
unity."  "All  knowledge,"  said  the  Platonists,  "is  the  gather- 
ing up  into  one."'^ 

Starting  from  this  fundamental  idea,  that,  beneath  the  endless 
flux  and  change  of  the  visible  universe,  there  must  be  a  permanent 
principle  of  unity,  we  have  seen  developed  two  opposite  schools 
of  speculative  thought.  As  the  traveller,  standing  on  the  ridges 
of  the  Andes,  may  see  the  head -waters  of  the  great  South 
American  rivers  mingling  in  one,  so  the  student  of  philosophy, 
standing  on  the  elevated  plane  of  analytic  thought,  may  dis- 
cover, in  this  fundamental  principle,  the  common  source  of  the 
two  great  systems  of  speculative  thought  which  divided  the 

^  Cudworth's  "  Intellectual  System,"  vol.  i.  p.  518. 

^  Hamilton's  "  Metaphysics,"  vol.  i.  pp.  67-70  (English  edition). 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  311 

ancient  world.  Here  are  the  head -waters  of  the  sensational 
and  the  idealist  schools.  The  Ionian  school  started  its  course 
of  inquiry  in  the  direction  of  sense;  it  occupied  itself  solely 
with  the  phenomena  of  the  external  world,  and  it  sought  this 
principle  of  unity  in  3.  physical  element.  The  Italian  school 
started  its  course  of  inquiry  in  the  direction  of  reason  ;  it  occu- 
pied itself  chiefly  with  rational  conceptions  or  d  priori  ideas, 
and  it  sought  this  principle  of  unity  in  purely  metaphysical 
being.  And  just  as  the  Amazon  and  La  Plata  sweep  on,  in 
opposite  directions,  until  they  reach  the  extremities  of  the  con- 
tinent, so  these  two  opposite  streams  of  thought  rush  onward, 
by  the  force  of  a  logical  necessity,  until  they  terminate  in  the 
two  Unitarian  systems  of  Absolute  Materialism  and  Absolute 
Idealism;  and,  in  their  theological  aspects,  in  a  pantheism 
which,  on  the  one  hand,  identifies  God  with  matter,  or,  on  the 
other  hand,  swallows  up  the  universe  in  God. 

The  radical  error  of  both  these  systems  is  at  once  apparent. 
The  testimony  of  the  primary  faculties  of  the  mind  was  not 
regarded  as  each,  within  its  sphere,  final  and  decisive.  The 
duality  of  consciousness  was  not  accepted  in  all  its  integrity ; 
one  school  rejected  the  testimony  of  reason,  the  other  denied 
the  veracity  of  the  senses,  and  both  prepared  the  way  for  the 
skepticism  of  the  Sophists. 

We  must  not,  however,  lose  sight  of  the  fact  that  there  were 
some  philosophers  of  the  pre-Socratic  school,  as  Anaxagoras 
and  Empedocles,  who  recognized  the  partial  and  exclusive 
character  of  both  these  systems,  and  sought,  by  a  method 
which  Cousin  would  designate  as  Eclecticism,  to  combine  the 
element  of  truth  contained  in  each. 

Anaxagoras  of  Clazomence  (b.c.  500-428)  added  to  the  Ioni- 
an philosophy  of  a  material  element  or  elements  the  Italian 
idea  of  a  spirit  distinct  from,  and  independent  of  the  world, 
which  has  within  itself  the  principle  of  a  spontaneous  activity 
— Nove  avTOKpan'jQ,  and  which  is  the  first  cause  of  motion  in  the 
universe — apx')  '■'??  kivi^cteioq.^ 

^  Cousin,  "  History  of  Philosophy,"  vol.  i.  p.  411. 


312  CHRISTIAXITY  AND 

In  his  physical  theory,  Anaxagoras  was  an  Atomist.  Instead 
of  one  element,  he  declared  that  the  elements  or  first  princijDles 
were  numerous,  or  even  infinite.  No  point  in  space  is  unoccu- 
pied by  these  atoms,  which  are  infinitely  divisible.  He  imag- 
ined that,  in  nature,  there  are  as  many  kinds  of  principles  as 
there  are  species  of  compound  bodies,  and  that  the  peculiar 
form  of  the  primary  particles  of  which  any  body  is  composed 
is  the  same  with  the  qualities  of  the  compound  body  itself 
This  was  the  celebrated  doctrine  of  Homosomeria,  of  which  Lu- 
cretius furnishes  a  luminous  account  in  his  philosophic  poem 
"De  Natura  Rerum"— 

"That  bone  from  bones 
Minute,  and  embryon ;  nerve  from  nerves  arise ; 
.And  blood  from  blood,  by  countless  drops  increased. 
Gold,  too,  from  golden  atoms,  earths  concrete, 
From  earths  extreme  ;  from  fiery  matters,  fire  ; 
And  lymph  from  limpen  dews.     And  thus  throughout 
From  primal  kinds  that  kinds  perpetual  spring."^ 

These  primary  particles  were  regarded  by  Anaxagoras  as  eter- 
nal j  because  he  held  the  dogma,  peculiar  to  all  the  lonians, 
that  nothing  can  be  really  created  or  annihilated  (de  nihilo  ni- 
hil, in  nihilum  nil  posse  reverti).  But  he  saw,  nevertheless, 
that  the  simple  existence  of  "  inert "  matter,  even  from  eternity, 
could  not  explain  the  motion  and  the  harmony  of  the  material 
world.  Hence  he  saw  the  necessity  of  another  power  —  the 
power  of  Intelligence.  "  All  things  were  in  chaos  ;  then  came 
Intelligence  and  introduced  Order.  "^ 

Anaxagoras,  unlike  the  pantheistic  speculators  of  the  Ionian 
school,  rigidly  separated  the  Supreme  Intelligence  from  the 
material  universe.  "The  Nouc  of  Anaxagoras  is  a  principle, 
infinite,  independent  (avroKpaTeg),  omnipresent  (eV  Travn  iravroQ 
fxoipq.  tvov)^  the  subtilest  and  purest  of  things  {XenTOTaTOV  Trayriov 
Xpr/fittT-wj/  Kai  Kadapojrarov) ;  and  incapable  of  mixture  with  aught 
besides ;  it  is  also  omniscient  (Travra  tyvw),  and  unchangeable 
(Trdg  bfxoioQ  ian). — Simplicius,  in  "  Arist.  Phys."  i.  ^^-^ 

^  Good's  translation,  bk.  i.  p.  325.  ^  Diogenes  Laertius,  "  Li^jes,"  p.  59. 

^  Butler's  "  Lectures  on  Philosophy,"  vol.  i.  p.  305,  note. 


OREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  313 

Thus  did  Anaxagoras  bridge  the  chasm  between  the  Ionian 
and  the  Italian  schools.  He  accepted  both  doctrines  with 
some  modifications.  He  believed  in  the  real  existence  of  the 
phenomenal  world,  and  he  also  believed  in  the  real  existence 
of  "The  Infinite  Mind,"  whose  Intelligence  and  Omnipotence 
were  manifested  in  the  laws  and  relations  which  pervade  the 
world.  He  proclaimed  the  existence  of  the  Infinite  Intelligence 
("the  One"),  who  was  the  Architect  and  Governor  of  the 
Infinite  Matter  ("the  Many"). 

On  the  question  as  to  the  origin  and  certainty  of  human 
knowledge,  Anaxagoras  differed  both  from  the  lonians  and  the 
Eleatics.  Neither  the  sense  alone,  nor  the  reason  alone,  were 
for  him  a  ground  of  certitude.  He  held  that  reason  (Xoyoc) 
was  the  regulative  faculty  of  the  mind,  as  the  NoOe,  or  Supreme 
Intelligence,  was  the  regulative  power  of  the  universe.  And 
he  admitted  that  the  senses  were  veracious  in  their  reports ; 
but  they  reported  only  in  regard  to  phenomena.  The  senses, 
then,  perceive  phenomena^  but  it  is  the  reason  alone  which  rec- 
ognizes noumena,  that  is,  the  reason  perceives  being  in  and 
through  phenomena,  substance  in  and  through  qualities;  an 
anticipation  of  the  fundamental  principle  of  modern  psychology 
— "  that  every  power  or  substance  in  existence  is  knowable  to  us, 
so  far  only,  as  we  know  its  phenomena.''^  Thus,  again,  does  he 
bridge  the  chasm  that  separates  between  the  Sensationalist 
and  the  Idealist.  The  lonians  relied  solely  on  the  intuitions 
of  sense  ;  the  Eleatics  accepted  only  the  apperceptions  of  pure 
reason  ;  he  accepted  the  testimony  of  both,  and  in  the  synthe- 
sis of  subject  and  object — the  union  of  an' element  supplied  by 
sensation,  and  an  element  supplied  by  reason,  he  found  real, 
certain  knowledge. 

The  harmony  which  the  doctrine  of  Anaxagoras  introduced 
into  the  philosophy  of  Atliens,  soon  attracted  attention  and 
multiplied  disciples.  He  was  teaching  when  Socrates  arrived 
in  Athens,  and  the  latter  attended  his  school.  The  influence 
which  the  doctrine  of  Anaxagoras  exerted  upon  the  mind  of 
Socrates  (leading  him  to  recognize  Intelligence  as  the  cause 


314  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

of  order  and  special  adaptation  in  the  universe)/  and  also  upon 
the  course  of  philosophy  in  the  Socratic  schools,  is  the  most 
enduring  memorial  of  his  name.'^ 

We  have  devoted  a  much  larger  space  than  we  originally 
designed  to  the  ante-Socratic  schools — quite  out  of  proportion, 
indeed,  with  that  we  shall  be  able  to  appropriate  to  their  suc- 
cessors. But  inasmuch  as  all  the  great  primary  problems  of 
thought,  which  are  subsequently  discussed  by  Plato  and  Aris- 
totle, were  started,  and  received,  at  least,  typical  answers  in 
those  schools,  we  can  not  hope  to  understand  Plato,  or  Aris- 
totle, or  even  Epicurus,  or  Zeno  of  Cittium,  unless  we  have  first 
mastered  the  doctrines  of  Heraclitus,  Pythagoras,  Parmenides, 
and  Anaxagoras.^  The  attention  we  have  bestowed  on  these 
early  thinkers  will,  therefore,  have  been  a  valuable  preparatory 
discipline  for  the  study  of 

II.    THE   SOCRATIC   SCHOOL. 

The  first  cycle  of  philosophy  was  now  complete.  That  form 
of  Grecian  speculative  thought  which,  during  the  first  period  of 
its  development,  was  a  philosophy  of  nature,  had  reached  its 
maturity ;  it  had  sought  "the  first  principles  of  all  things"  in  the 
study  of  external  nature,  and  had  signally  failed.  In  this  pur- 
suit of  first  principles  as  the  basis  of  a  true  and  certain  knowl- 
edge of  the  system  of  the  universe,  the  two  leading  schools  had 
been  carried  to  opposite  poles  of  thought.  One  had  asserted 
that  experience  alone,  the  other,  that  reason  alone  was  the 
sole  criterion  of  truth.  As  the  last  consequence  of  this  im- 
perfect method,  Leucippus  had  denied  the  existence  of  "  the 
one,"  and  Zeno  had  denied  the  existence  of  "the  many." 
The  Ionian  school,  in  Democritus,  had  landed  in  Materialism  ; 
the  Italian,  in  Parmenides,  had  ended  in  Pantheism  ;  and,  as 
the  necessary  result  of  this  partial  and  defective  method  of  in- 
quiry, which  ended  in  doubt  and  contradiction,  a  spirit  of  gen- 

^  "  Phaedo,"  §  105.  "  Aristotle's  "  Metaphysics,"  bk.  i.  ch.  iii. 

^  Maurice's  "Ancient  Philosophy,"  p.  114;  Butler's  "Lectures  on  Ancient 
Philosophy,"  vol.  ii.  pp.  87,  88. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


315 


eral  skepticism  was  generated  in  the  Athenian  mind.  If  doubt 
be  cast  upon  the  veracity  of  the  primary  cognitive  faculties  of 
the  mind,  the  flood-gates  of  universal  skepticism  are  opened. 
If  the  senses  are  pronounced  to  be  mendacious  and  illusory  in 
their  reports  regarding  external  phenomena,  and  if  the  intui- 
tions of  the  reason,  in  regard  to  the  ground  and  cause  of  phe- 
nomena, are  delusive,  then  we  have  no  ground  of  certitude.  If 
one  faculty  is  unveracious  and  unreliable,  how  can  we  deter- 
mine that  the  other  is  not  equally  so  ?  There  is,  then,  no  such 
thing  as  universal  and  necessary  truth.  Truth  is  variable  and 
uncertain,  as  the  variable  opinion  of  each  individual. 

The  Sophists,  who  belonged  to  no  particular  school,  laid 
hold  on  the  elements  of  skepticism  contained  in  both  the  pre- 
Socratic  schools  of  philosophy,  and  they  declared  that  "  the 
o-00/a  "  was  not  only  unattainable,  but  that  no  relative  degree 
of  it  was  possible  for  the  human  faculties.^  Protagoras  of  Ab- 
dera  accepted  the  doctrine  of  Heraclitus,  that  thought  is  iden- 
tical with  sensation,  and  limited  by  it ;  he  therefore  declared 
that  there  is  no  criterion  of  truth,  and  ^^Man  is  the  measure  of 
all  things!^  Sextus  Empiricus  gives  the  psychological  opinions 
of  Protagoras  with  remarkable  explicitness.  "  Matter  is  in  a 
perpetual  flux,  whilst  it  undergoes  augmentations  and  losses ; 
the  senses  also  are  modified  according  to  the  age  and  dispo- 
sition of  the  body.  He  said,  also,  that  the  reason  of  all  phe- 
nomena resides  in  matter  as  substrata,  so  that  matter,  in  itself, 
might  be  whatever  it  appeared  to  each.  But  men  have  differ- 
ent perceptions  at  different  periods,  according  to  the  changes 
in  the  things  perceived.  . . .  Man  is,  therefore,  the  criterion 
of  that  which  exists  ;  all  that  is  perceived  by  him  exists ;  that 
which  is  perceived  by  no  man  does  not  existy^  These  conclusions 
were  rigidly  and  fearlessly  applied  to  ethics  and  political  sci- 
ence.    If  there  is  no  Eternal  Truth,  there  can  be  no  Immutable 

^  Encyclopaedia  Britannica,  article  **  Sophist." 

^  Plato's  "Theaetetus"  (dv^pwTrof — "the  individual  is  the  measure  of  all 
things"),  vol.  i.  p.  381  (Bohn's  edition). 

^  Lewes's  "Biographical  History  of  Philosophy,"  p.  117. 


1 6  CHRISTIANITY  AND 


Right.  The  distinction  of  right  and  wrong  is  solely  a  matter 
of  human  opinion  and  conventional  usage/  "That  which  ap- 
pears just  and  honorable  to  each  city,  is  so  for  that  city,  so  long 
as  the  opinion  prevails."* 

There  were  others  who  laid  hold  on  the  weapons  which  Zeno 
had  prepared  to  their  hands.  He  had  asserted  that  all  the  ob- 
jects of  sense  were  mere  phantoms — delusive  and  transitory. 
By  the  subtilties  of  dialectic  quibbling,  he  had  attempted  to 
prove  that  "change"  meant  "permanence,"  and  "motion" 
meant  "rest."'  Words  may,  therefore,  have  the  most  opposite 
and  contradictory  meanings ;  and  all  language  and  all  opinion 
may,  by  such  a  process,  be  rendered  uncertain.  One  opinion 
is,  consequently,  for  the  individual,  just  as  good  as  another;  and 
all  opinions  are  equally  true  and  untrue.  It  was  nevertheless 
desirable,  for  the  good  of  society,  that  there  should  be  some 
agreement,  and  that,  for  a  time  at  least,  certain  opinions  should 
prevail ;  and  if  philosophy  had  failed  to  secure  this  agree- 
ment, rhetoric,  at  least,  was  effectual ;  and,  with  the  Sophist, 
rhetoric  was  "  the  art  of  making  the  worst  appear  the  better 
reason."  All  wisdom  was  now  confined  to  a  species  of  "word 
jugglery,"  which  in  Athens  was  dignified  as  "  the  art  of  dispu- 
tation." 

Socrates  (b.c.  469-399),  the  grand  central  figure  in  the 
group  of  ancient  philosophers,  arrived  in  Athens  in  the  midst 
of  this  general  skepticism.  He  had  an  invincible  faith  in  truth. 
"  He  made  her  the  mistress  of  his  soul,  and  with  patient  labor, 
and  unwearied  energy,  did  his  great  and  noble  soul  toil  after 
perfect  communion  with  her."  He  was  disappointed  and  dis- 
satisfied with  the  results  that  had  been  reached  by  the  methods 
of  his  predecessors,  and  he  was  convinced  that  by  these  meth- 
ods the  problem  of  the  universe  could  not  be  solved.  He 
therefore  turned  away  from  physical  inquiries,  and  devoted  his 

'  "  Gorgias,"  §  85-89.  ^  Plato's  «  Thestetus,"  §  65-75. 

'  "And  do  we  not  know  that  the  Eleatic  Palamedes  (Zeno)  spoke  by  art 
in  such  a  manner  that  the  same  things  appeared  to  be  similar  and  dissimilar, 
one  and  many,  at  rest  and  in  motion  ?" — '*  Phsedrus,"  §  97. 


-5   ?     ' 

GREEK  FEILOSOPHY.  317 

whole  attention  to  the  study  of  the  human  mind,  its  funda- 
mental beliefs,  ideas,  and  laws.  If  he  can  not  penetrate  the 
mysteries  of  the  outer  world,  he  will  turn  his  attention  to  the 
world  within.  He  will  "know  himself,"  and  find  within  him- 
self the  reason,  and  ground,  and  law  of  all  existence.  There 
he  discovered  certain  truths  which  can  not  possibly  be  ques- 
tioned. He  felt  he  had  within  his  own  heart  a  faithful  monitor 
— a  conscience,  which  he  regarded  as  the  voice  of  God.^  He 
believed  "he  had  a  divine  teacher  with  him  at  all  times. 
Though  he  did  not  possess  wisdom,  this  teacher  could  put  him 
on  the  road  to  seek  it,  could  preserve  him  from  delusions 
which  might  turn  him  out  of  the  way,  could  keep  his  mind 
fixed  upon  the  end  for  which  he  ought  to  act  and  live."^  In 
himself,  therefore,  he  sought  that  ground  of  certitude  which 
should  save  him  from  the  prevailing  skepticism  of  his  times. 
The  Delphic  inscription,  VvibQi  treavTov,  "  kjiow  thyself, ^^  becomes 
henceforth  the  fundamental  maxim  of  philosophy. 

Truth  has  a  rational,  d  priori  foundation  in  the  constitution 
of  the  human  mind.  There  are  ideas  connatural  to  the  human 
reason  which  are  the  copies  of  those  archetypal  ideas  which 
belong  to  the  Eternal  Reason.  The  grand  problem  of  philoso- 
phy, therefore,  now  is —  What  are  these  fundamental  ideas  which 
are  unchangeable  and  permanent,  amid  all  the  diversities  of  human 
opinion,  connecting  appearance  with  reality,  and  constituting  a 
groufid  of  certain  knowledge  or  absolute  truth  2     Socrates  may 

^  The  Daemon  of  Socrates  has  been  the  subject  of  much  discussion  among 
learned  men.  The  notion,  once  generally  received,  that  his  dal/iuv  was  *'  a 
familiar  genius,"  is  now  regarded  as  an  exploded  error.  "  Nowhere  does 
Socrates,  in  Plato  or  Xenophon,  speak  of  a  genius  or  demon,  but  always  of 
a  d(Bmo7iiac  something  {ro  dac/u6viov,  or  (^aijuoviov  ri),  or  of  a  si^n,  a  voice,  a 
divine  sign,  z.  divine  voice''''  (Lewes's  "Biographical  History  of  Philosophy," 
p.  166).  "  Soci-ates  always  speaks  of  a  divine  or  supernatural  somewhat 
('divinum  quiddam,'  as  Cicero  has  it),  the  nature  of  which  he  does  not  at- 
tempt to  divine,  and  to  which  he  never  attributes  personality"  (Butler's 
"Lectures  on  Ancient  Philosophy,"  vol.  i.  p.  357).  The  scholar  need  not  to 
be  informed  that  to  6aL(i6vLov,  in  classic  literature,  means  the  divine  Essence 
(Lat.  manen),  to  which  are  attributed  events  beyond  man's  power,  yet  not 
to  be  assigned  to  any  special  god. 

^  Maurice's  "Ancient  Philosophy,"  p.  124. 


3i8  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

not  have  held  the  doctrine  of  ideas  as  exhibited  by  Plato,  but 
he  certainly  believed  that  there  were  germs  of  truth  latent  in 
the  human  mind — principles  which  governed,  unconsciously, 
the  processes  of  thought,  and  that  these  could  be  developed  by 
reflection  and  by  questioning.  These  w^ere  embryonate  in  the 
womb  of  reason,  coming  to  the  birth,  but  needing  the  "  maieu- 
tic  "  or  "  obstetric  "  art,  that  they  might  be  brought  forth. ^  He 
would,  therefore,  become  the  accoucheur  of  ideas,  and  deliver 
minds  of  that  secret  truth  which  lay  in  their  mental  constitu- 
tion. And  thus  Psychology  becomes  the  basis  of  all  legitimate 
metaphysics. 

By  the  general  consent  of  antiquity,  as  well  as  by  the  con- 
current judgment  of  all  modern  historians  of  philosophy,  Soc- 
rates is  regarded  as  having  effected  a  complete  revolution  in 
philosophic  thought,  and,  by  universal  consent,  he  is  placed  at 
the  commencement  of  a  new  era  in  philosophy.  Schleier- 
macher  has  said,  "  the  service  which  Socrates  rendered  to  phi- 
losophy consisted  not  so  much  in  the  truths  arrrived  at  as  in 
the  METHOD  by  which  truth  is  sought^  As  Bacon  inaugurated 
a  new  method  in  physical  inquiry,  so  Socrates  inaugurated  a 
new  method  in  metaphysical  inquiry. 

What,  then,  was  this  new  method  "^  It  was  no  other  than  the 
inductive  method  applied  to  the  facts  of  consciousness.  This 
method  is  thus  defined  by  Aristotle:  "Induction  is  the  proc- 
ess from  particulars  to  generals ;"  that  is,  it.  is  the  process  of 
discovering  laws  from  facts,  causes  from  effects,  being  from 
phenomena.  But  how  is  this  process  of  induction  conducted  ? 
By  observing  and  enumerating  the  real  facts  which  are  present- 
ed in  consciousness,  by  noting  their  relations  of  resemblance 
or  difference,  and  by  classifying  these  facts  by  the  aid  of  these 
relations.  In  other  words,  it  is  analysis  applied  to  the  phe- 
nomena of  mind.''  *  Now  Socrates  gave  this  method  of  psycho- 
logical analysis  to  Greek  philosophy.  "  There  are  two  things 
of  which  Socrates  must  justly  be  regarded  as  the  author, — the 

^  Plato's  "  Theaetetus,"  §  22. 

^  Cousin's  "  Lectures  on  the  History  of  Philosophy,"  vol.  i.  p.  30. 


GBEEK  PHILOSOPHY.  319 

inductive  reasoning  and  abstract  definition.^  We  readily  grant 
that  Socrates  employed  this  methoa  imperfectly,  for  methods 
are  the  last  things  perfected  in  science  ;  but  still,  the  Socratic 
movement  was  a  vast  movement  in  the  right  direction. 

In  what  are  usually  regarded  as  the  purely  Socratic  dia- 
logues,'* Plato  evidently  designs  to  exhibit  this  method  of  Soc- 
rates. They  proceed  continually  on  the  firm  conviction  that 
there  is  a  standard  or  criterion  of  truth  in  the  reason  of  man, 
and  that,  by  reflection,  man  can  apprehend  and  recognize  the 
truth.  To  awaken  this  power  of  reflection ;  to  compel  men  to 
analyze  their  language  and  their  thoughts ;  to  lead  them  from 
the  particular  and  the  contingent,  to  the  universal  and  the  nec- 
essary ;  and  to  teach  them  to  test  their  opinions  by  the  inward 
standard  of  truth,  was  the  aim  of  Socrates.  These  dialogues 
are  a  picture  of  the  conversations  of  Socrates.  They  are  liter- 
ally an  education  of  the  thinking  faculty.  Their  purpose  is  to 
discipline  men  to  think  for  themselves,  rather  than  to  furnish 
opinions  for  them.  In  many  of  these  dialogues  Socrates  affirms 
nothing.  After  producing  many  arguments,  and  examining  a 
question  on  all  sides,  he  leaves  it  undetermined.  At  the  close 
of  the  dialogue  he  is  as  far  from  a  declaration  of  opinions  as  at 
the  commencement.  His  grand  effort,  like  that  of  Bacon's,  is 
to  furnish  men  a  correct  method  of  inquiry,  rather  than  to  apply 
that  method  and  give  them  results. 

We  must  not,  however,  from  thence  conclude  that  Socrates 
did  not  himself  attain  any  definite  conclusions,  or  reach  any 
specific  and  valuable  results.  When,  in  reply  to  his  friends  who 
reported  the  answer  of  the  oracle  of  Delphi,  that  "  Socrates  was 
the  wisest  of  men,"  he  said,  "  he  supposed  the  oracle  declared 
him  wise  because  he  knew  nothing,'''  he  did  not  mean  that  true 
knowledge  was  unattainable,  for  his  whole  life  had  been  spent 
in  efforts  to  attain  it.  He  simply  indicates  the  disposition  of 
mind  which  is  most  befitting  and  most  helpful  to  the  seeker 

^  Aristotle's  "  Metaphysics,"  vol.  xii.  ch.  iv.  p.  359  (Bohn's  edition). 
"^  "  Laches,"  "  Charmides,"  "  Lysis,"  «'  The  Rivals,"  "  First  and  Second 
Alcibiades,"  "  Theages,"  *'  Clitophon."     See  Whewell's  translation,  vol.  i. 


320  CERISTIANITT  AND 

after  truth.  He  must  be  conscious  of  his  own  ignorance.  He 
must  not  exalt  himself.  He  must  not  put  his  own  conceits  in 
the  way  of  the  thing  he  would  know.  He  must  have  an  open 
eye,  a  single  purpose,  an  honest  mind,  to  prepare  him  to  receive 
light  when  it  comes.  And  that  there  is  light,  that  there  is  a 
source  whence  light  comes,  he  avowed  in  every  word  and  act. 

Socrates  unquestionably  believed  in  one  Supreme  God,  the 
immaterial,  infinite  Governor  of  all.  He  cherished  that  in- 
stinctive, spontaneous  faith  in  God  and  his  Providence  which 
is  the  universal  faith  of  the  human  heart.  He  saw  this  faith 
revealed  in  the  religious  sentiments  of  all  nations,  and  in  the 
tendency  to  worship  so  universally  characteristic  of  humanity.^ 
He  appealed  to  the  consciousness  of  absolute  dependence — 
the  persuasion,  wrought  by  God  in  the  minds  of  all  men,  that 
"  He  is  able  to  make  men  happy  or  miserable,"  and  the  conse- 
quent sense  of  obligation  which  teaches  man  he  ought  to  obey 
God.  And  he  regarded  with  some  degree  of  affectionate  ten- 
derness the  common  sentiment  of  his  countrymen,  that  the  Di- 
vine Government  was  conducted  through  the  ministry  of  subor- 
dinate deities  or  generated  gods.  But  he  sought  earnestly  to 
prevent  the  presence  of  these  subordinate  agents  from  inter- 
cepting the  clear  view  of  the  Supreme  God. 

The  faith  of  Socrates  was  not,  however,  grounded  on  mere 
feeling  and  sentiment.  He  endeavored  to  place  the  knowledge 
of  God  on  a  rational  basis.  We  can  not  read  the  arguments 
he  employed  without  being  convinced  that  he  anticipated  all 
the  subsequent  writers  on  Natural  Theology  in  his  treatment 
of  the  argument  from  special  ends  ox  final  causes.  We  venture 
to  abridge  the  account  which  is  given  by  Xenophon  of  the  con- 
versation with  Aristodemus  -? 

"  I  will  now  relate  the  manner  in  which  I  once  heard  Socra- 
tes discoursing  with  Aristodemus  concerning  the  Deity;  for, 
observing  that  he  never  prayed  nor  sacrificed  to  the  gods,  but, 
on  the  contrary,  ridiculed  those  who  did,  he  said  to  him  : 

" '  Tell  me,  Aristodemus,  is  there  any  man  you  admire  on 
*  "  Memorabilia,"  bk.  i.  ch.  iv.  §  i6.  '  Ibid,  bk.  I  ch.  iv. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


321 


account  of  his  merits?'  Aristodemus  having  answered,  'Many/ 
— *  Name  some  of  them,  I  pray  you,'  said  Socrates.  '  I  admire,' 
said  Aristodemus,  'Homer  for  his  Epic  poetry,  Melanippides 
for  his  dithyrambics,  Sophocles  for  his  tragedy,  Polycletus  for 
statuary,  and  Zeuxis  for  painting.' 

"'But  which  seemed  to  you  most  worthy  of  admiration, 
Aristodemus — the  artist  who  forms  images  void  of  motion  and 
intelligence,  or  one  who  has  skill  to  produce  animals  that  are 
endued,  not  only  with  activity,  but  understanding  ?' 

" '  The  latter,  there  can  be  no  doubt,'  replied  Aristodemus,  • 
'  provided  the  production  was  not  the  effect  of  chance,  but  of 
wisdom  and  contrivance.' 

" '  But  since  there  are  many  things,  some  of  which  we  can 
easily  see  the  use  of,  while  we  can  not  say  of  others  to  what 
purpose  they  are  produced,  which  of  these,  Aristodemus,  do 
you  suppose  the  work  of  wisdom  ?' 

" '  It  would  seem  the  most  reasonable  to  affirm  it  of  those 
whose  fitness  and  utility  are  so  evidently  apparent,'  answered 
Aristodemus. 

" '  But  it  is  evidently  apparent  that  He  who,  at  the  beginning, 
made  man,  endued  him  with  senses  because  they  were  good  for 
him  j  eyes  wherewith  to  behold  what  is  visible,  and  ears  to  hear 
whatever  was  heard  ;  for,  say,  Aristodemus,  to  what  purpose 
should  odor  be  prepared,  if  the  sense  of  smelling  had  been  de- 
nied ?  or  why  the  distinction  of  bitter  or  sweet,  of  savory  or  un-  • 
savory,  unless  a  palate  had  been  likewise  given,  conveniently 
placed  to  arbitrate  between  them  and  proclaim  the  difference  ? 
Is  not  that  Providence,  Aristodemus,  in  a  most  eminent  manner 
conspicuous,  which,  because  the  eye  of  a  man  is  so  delicate 
in  its  contexture,  hath  therefore  prepared  eyelids  like  doors 
whereby  to  secure  it,  which  extend  of  themselves  whenever  it 
is  needful,  and  again  close  when  sleep  approaches  ?  Are  not 
these  eyelids  provided,  as  it  were,  with  a  fence  on  the  edge  of 
them  to  keep  off  the  wind  and  guard  the  eye  ?  Even  the  eye- 
brow itself  is  not  without  its  office,  but,  as  a  penthouse,  is  pre- 
pared to  turn  off  the  sweat,  which  falling  from  the  forehead 

21 


I 


322  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

might  enter  and  annoy  that  no  less  tender  than  astonishing 
part  of  us.  Is  it  not  to  be  admired  that  the  ears  should  take 
in  sounds  of  every  sort,  and  yet  are  not  too  much  filled  with 
them  ?  That  the  fore  teeth  of  the  animal  should  be  formed  in 
such  a  manner  as  is  evidently  best  for  cutting,  and  those  on  the 
side  for  grinding  it  to  pieces  ?  That  the  mouth,  through  which 
this  food  is  conveyed,  should  be  placed  so  near  the  nose  and 
eyes  as  to  prevent  the  passing  unnoticed  whatever  is  unfit  for 

nourishment  ? And  canst  thou  still  doubt,  Aristodemus, 

whether  a  disposition  of  parts  like  this  should  be  a  work  of  chaftce, 
'  or  of  wisdom  and  contrivance  V 

" '  I  have  no  longer  any  doubt,'  replied  Aristodemus  ;  '  and, 
indeed,  the  more  I  consider  it,  the  more  evident  it  appears  to 
me  that  man  must  be  the  masterpiece  of  some  great  Artificer, 
carrying  along  with  it  infinite  marks  of  the  love  and  favor  of 
Him  who  hath  thus  formed  it' 

."'But,  further  (unless  thou  desirest  to  ask  me  questions), 
seeing,  Aristodemus,  thou  thyself  art  conscious  of  reason  and 
intelligence,  supposest  thou  there  is  no  intelligence  elsewhere  ? 
Thou  knowest  thy  body  to  be  a  small  part  of  that  wide-extended 
earth  thou  everywhere  beholdest ;  the  moisture  contained  in  it 
thou  also  knowest  to  be  a  portion  of  that  mighty  mass  of  waters 
whereof  seas  themselves  are  but  a  part,  while  the  rest  of  the 
elements  contribute  out  of  their  abundance  to  thy  formation. 
It  is  the  soul^  then,  alone,  that  intellectual  part  of  us,  which  is 
come  to  thee  by  some  lucky  chance,  from  I  know  not  where.  If 
so,  there  is  no  intelligence  elsewhere ;  and  we  must  be  forced  to 
confess  that  this  stupendous  universe,  with  all  the  various  bod- 
ies contained  therein — equally  amazing,  whether  we  consider 
their  magnitude  or  number,  whatever  their  use,  whatever  their 
order — all  have  been  produced  by  chance,  not  by  intelligence  !' 

" '  It  is  with  difficulty  that  I  can  suppose  otherwise,'  returned 
Aristodemus ;  *  for  I  behold  none  of  those  gods  whom  you 
speak  of  as  framing  and  governing  the  world ;  whereas  I  see 
the  artists  when  at  their  work  here  among  us.' 

"  *  Neither  yet  seest  thou  thy  soul,  Aristodemus,  which,  how- 


OREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  323 

ever,  most  assuredly  governs  thy  body;  although  it  may  well 
seem,  by  thy  manner  of  talking,  that  it  is  chance  and  not  rea- 
son which  governs  thee.' 

"  *  I  do  not  despise  the  gods,*  said  Aristodemus ;  *  on  the 
contrary,  I  conceive  so  highly  of  their  excellency,  as  to  suppose 
they  stand  in  no  need  of  me  or  of  my  services.' 

" '  Thou  mistakest  the  matter,'  Aristodemus  ;  *  the  great  mag- 
nificence they  have  shown  in  their  care  of  thee,  so  much  the 
more  honor  and  service  thou  owest  them.' 

" '  Be  assured,'  said  Aristodemus,  '  if  I  once  could  persuade 
myself  the  gods  take  care  of  man,  I  should  want  no  monitor  to 
remind  me  of  my  duty.' 

"  *  And  canst  thou  doubt,  Aristodemus,  if  the  gods  take  care 
of  man  ?  Hath  not  the  glorious  privilege  of  walking  upright 
been  alone  bestowed  on  him,  whereby  he  may  with  the  better 
advantage  survey  what  is  around  him,  contemplate  with  more 
ease  those  splendid  objects  which  are  above,  and  avoid  the  nu- 
merous ills  and  inconveniences  which  would  otherwise  befall 
him?  Other  animals,  indeed,  they  have  provided  with  feet; 
but  to  man  they  have  also  given  hands,  with  which  he  can  form 
many  things  for  use,  and  make  himself  happier  than  creatures 
of  any  other  kind.  A  tongue  hath  been  bestowed  on  every 
other  animal ;  but  what  animal,  except  man,  hath  the  power  of 
forming  words  with  it  whereby  to  explain  his  thoughts  and 
lyiake  them  intelligible  to  others  ?  But  it  is  not  with  respect  to 
the  body  alone  that  the  gods  have  shown  themselves  bountiful 
to  man.  Their  most  excellent  gift  is  that  of  a  soul  they  have 
infused  into  him,  which  so  far  surpasses  what  is  elsewhere  to  be 
found ;  for  by  what  animal  except  man  is  even  the  existence 
of  the  gods  discovered,  who  have  produced  and  still  uphold  in 
such  regular  order  this  beautiful  and  stupendous  frame  of  the 
universe  ?    What  other  creature  is  to  be  found  that  can  serve 

and  adore  them  ? In  thee,  Aristodemus,  has  been  joined 

to  a  wonderful  soul  a  body  no  less  wonderful ;  and  sayest  thou, 
after  this,  the  gods  take  no  thought  for  me?  What  wouldst 
thou,  then,  more  to  convince  thee  of  their  care  ?' 


324  CHMISTIANITY  AND 

"  *  I  would  they  should  send  and  inform  me/  said  Aristode- 
mus,  'what  things  I  ought  or  ought  not  to  do,  in  like  manner 
as  thou  sayest  they  frequently  do  to  thee.'  " 

In  reply,  Socrates  shows  that  the  revelations  of  God  which 
are  made  in  nature,  in  history,  in  consciousness,  and  by  oracles, 
are  made  for  all  men  and  to  all  men.  He  then  concludes 
with  these  remarkable  words  :  "  As,  therefore,  amongst  men  we 
make  best  trial  of  the  affection  and  gratitude  of  our  neighbor 
by  showing  him  kindness,  and  make  discovery  of  his  wisdom 
by  consulting  him  in  our  distress,  do  thou,  in  like  manner,  be- 
have towards  the  gods ;  and  if  thou  wouldst  experience  what 
their  wisdom  and  their  love,  render  thyself  deserving  of  some 
of  those  divine  secrets  which  may  not  be  penetrated  by  man, 
and  are  imparted  to  those  alone  who  consult,  who  adore,  and 
who  obey  the  Deity.  Then  shalt  thou,  my  Aristodemus,  under- 
stand there  is  a  Being  whose  eye  passes  throicgh  all  nature,  and 
whose  ear  is  open  to  every  sound ;  exte7ided  to  all  places,  extending 
through  all  time ;  and  whose  bounty  and  care  cati  know  no  other 
bounds  than  those  fixed  by  his  own  creation  J^^ 

Socrates  was  no  less  earnest  in  his  belief  in  the  immortality 
of  the  soul,  and  a  state  of  future  retribution.  He  had  reve- 
rently listened  to  the  intuitions  of  his  own  soul — the  instinctive 
longings  and  aspirations  of  his  own  heart,  as  a  revelation  from 
God.  He  felt  that  all  the  powers  and  susceptibilities  of  his  in- 
ward nature  were  in  conscious  adaptation  to  the  idea  of  im- 
mortality, and  that  its  realization  was  the  appropriate  destiny 
of  man.  He  was  convinced  that  a  future  life  was  needed  to 
avenge  the  wrongs  and  reverse  the  unjust  judgments  of  the 
present  life  f  needed  that  virtue  may  receive  its  meet  reward, 
and  the  course  of  Providence  may  have  its  amplest  vindication. 
He  saw  this  faith  reflected  in  the  universal  convictions  of  man- 
kind, and  the  "common  traditions"  of  all  ages.^  No  one  re- 
fers more  frequently  than  Socrates  to  the  grand  old  mythologic 
stories  which  express  this  faith ;  to  Minos,  and  Rhadamanthus, 

*  Lewes's  translation,  in  "  Biog.  History  of  Philosophy,"  pp.  160-165. 
^  "Apology,"  §  32,  p.  329  (Whewell's  edition).  ^  Ibid. 


OBEEK  rillLO SOPHY.  325 

and  ^acus,  and  Triptolemus,  who  are  "real  judges,"  and  who^ 
in  "  the  Place  of  Departed  Spirits,  administer  justicey^  He 
believed  that  in  that  future  state  the  pursuit  of  wisdom  would 
be  his  chief  employment,  afid  he  anticipated  the  pleasure  of 
mingling  in  the  society  of  the  wise,  and  good,  and  great  of 
every  age. 

Whilst,  then,  Socrates  was  not  the  first  to  teach  the  doctrine 
of  immortality,  because  no  one  could  be  said  to  have  first  dis- 
covered it  any  more  than  to  have  first  discovered  the  existence 
of  a  God,  he  was  certainly  the  first  to  place  it  upon  a  philo- 
sophic basis.  The  Phaedo  presents  the  doctrine  and  the  rea- 
soning by  which  Socrates  had  elevated  his  mind  above  the  fear 
of  death.  Some  of  the  arguments  may  be  purely  Platonic,  the 
argument  especially  grounded  on*"  ideas ;"  still,  as  a  whole,  it 
must  be  regarded  as  a  tolerably  correct  presentation  of  the 
manner  in  which  Socrates  would  prove  the  immortality  of  the 
soul. 

In  Ethics^  Socrates  was  pre-eminently  himself.  The  system- 
atic resolution  of  the  whole  theory  of  society  into  the  element- 
ary principle  of  natural  law,  was  peculiar  to  him.  justice  was 
the  cardinal  principle  which  must  lie  at  the  foundation  of  all 
good  government.  The  word  o-oi^ta — wisdom — included  all 
excellency  in  personal  morals,  whether  as  manifested  (reflect- 
ively) in  the  conduct  of  one's  self,  or  (socially)  towards  others. 
And  Happiness,  in  its  purity  and  perfection,  can  only  be  found 
in  virtuous  action.'^ 

Socrates  left  nothing  behind  him  that  could  with  propriety 
be  called  a  school.  His  chief  glory  is  that  he  inaugurated  a 
new  method  of  inquiry,  which,  in  Plato  and  Aristotle,  we  shall 
see  applied.  He  gave  a  new  and  vital .  impulse  to  human 
thought,  which  endured  for  ages ;  "  and  he  left,  as  an  inherit- 
ance for  humanit}'',  the  example  of  a  heroic  life  devoted  wholly 
to  the  pursuit  of  truth,  and  crowned  with  martyrdom." 

1  "Apology,"  p.  330. 

^  Butler's  "  Lectures  on  Ancient  Philosophy,"  vol.  i.  pp.  360,  361. 


326  CHRISTIANITY  AND 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE   PHILOSOPHERS   OF   ATHENS   {continued). 
THE  SOCRATIC  SCHOOL  (continued). 

PLATO. 

WE  have  seen  that  the  advent  of  Socrates  marks  a  new 
era  in  the  history  of  speculative  thought.  Greek  phi- 
losophy, which  at  first  was  a  philosophy  of  nature,  now  changes 
its  direction,  its  character,  and  its  method,  and  becomes  a  phi- 
losophy of  mind.  This,  of  course,  does  not  mean  that  now  it 
had  mind  alone  for  its  object ;  on  the  contrary,  it  tended,  as 
indeed  philosophy  must  always  tend,  to  the  conception  of  a 
rational  ideal  or  intellectual  systejii  of  the  universe.  It  started 
from  the  phenomena  of  mind,  began  with  the  study  of  human 
thought,  and  it  made  the  knowledge  of  mind,  of  its  ideas  and 
laws,  the  basis  of  a  higher  philosophy,  which  should  interpret 
all  nature.  In  other  words,  it  proceeded  from  psychology, 
through  dialectics,  to  ontology.^ 

This  new  movement  we  have  designated  in  general  terms 
as  the  Socratic  School.  Not  that  we  are  to  suppose  that,  in  any 
technical  sense,  Socrates  founded  a  school.  The  Academy, 
the  Lyceum,  the  Stoa,  and  the  Garden,  were  each  the  chosen 
resort  of  distinct  philosophic  sects,  the  locality  of  separate 
schools  ',  but  Athens  itself,  the  whole  city,  was  the  scene  of 
the  studies,  the  conversations,  and  the  labors  of  Socrates.  He 
wandered  through  the  streets  absorbed  in  thought.  Sometimes 
he  stood  still  for  hours  lost  in  profoundest  meditation  ;  at  other 
times  he  might  be  seen  in  the  market-place,  surrounded  by  a 
crowd  of  Athenians,  eagerly  discussing  the  great  questions  of 
the  day. 

^  Cousin's  "  Lectures  on  the  History  of  Philosophy,"  vol.  i.  p.  413. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPRT. 


.  2,^1 


Socrates,  then,  was  not,  in  the  usual  sense  of  the  word,  a 
teacher.  He  is  not  to  be  found  in  the  Stoa  or  the  Grove,  with 
official  aspect,  expounding  a  system  of  doctrine.  He  is  "  the 
garrulous  oddity"  of  the  streets,  putting  the  most  searching 
and  perplexing  questions  to  every  bystander,  and  making  every 
man  conscious  of  his  ignorance.  He  delivered  no  lectures ; 
he  simply  talked.  He  wrote  no  books ;  he  only  argued :  and 
what  is  usually  styled  his  school  must  be  understood  as  em- 
bracing those  who  attended  him  in  public  as  listeners  and 
admirers,  and  who  caught  his  spirit,  adopted  his  philosophic 
method^  and,  in  after  life,  elaborated  and  systematized  the  ideas 
they  had  gathered  from  him. 

Among  the  regular  or  the  occasional  hearers  of  Socrates 
were  many  who  were  little  addicted  to  philosophic  speculation. 
Some  were  warriors,  as  Nicias  and  Laches  j  some  statesmen, 
as  Critias  and  Critobulus ;  some  were  politicians,  in  the  worst 
sense  of  that  word,  as  Glaucon  ;  and  some  were  young  men  of 
fashion,  as  Euthydemus  and  Alcibiades.  These  were  all  alike 
delighted  with  his  inimitable  irony,  his  versatility  of  genius,  his 
charming  modes  of  conversation,  his  adroitness  of  reply ;  and 
they  were  compelled  to  confess  the  wisdom  and  justness  of  his 
opinions*,  and  to  admire  the  purity  and  goodness  of  his  life. 
The  magic  power  which  he  wielded,  even  over  men  of  dissolute 
character,  is  strikingly  depicted  by  Alcibiades  in  his  speech  at 
"  the  Banquet.'"  Of  these  listeners,  however,  we  can  not  now 
speak.  Our  business  is  with  those  only  who  imbibed  his  phil- 
osophic spirit,  and  became  the  future  teachers  of  philosophy. 
And  even  of  those  who,  as  Euclid  of  Megara,  and  Antisthenes 
the  Cynic,  and  Aristippus  of  Cyrenaica,  borrowed  somewhat 
from  the  dialectic  of  Socrates,  we  shall  say  nothing.  They  left 
no  lasting  impression  upon  the  current  of  philosophic  thought, 
because  their  systems  were  too  partial,  and  narrow,  and  frag- 
mentary. It  is  in  Plato  and  Aristotle  that  the  true  develop- 
ment of  the  Socratic  philosophy  is  to  be  sought,  and  in  Plato 
chiefly,  as  the  disciple  and  friend  of  Socrates. 
^"Banquet,"  §§39,  40. 


328  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

Plato  (b.c.  430-347)  was  pre-eminently  the  pupil  of  Socra- 
tes. He  came  to  Socrates  when  he  was  but  twenty  years  of 
age,  and  remained  with  him  to  the  day  of  his  death. 

Diogenes  Laertius  reports  the  story  of  Socrates  having 
dreamed  he  found  an  unfledged  cygnet  on  his  knee.  In  a  few 
moments  it  became  winged  and  flew  away,  uttering  a  sweet 
sound.  The  next  day  a  young  man  came  to  him  who  was  said 
to  reckon  Solon  among  his  near  ancestors,  and  who  looked, 
through  him,  to  Codrus  and  the  god  Poseidon.  That  young 
man  was  Plato,  and  Socrates  pronounced  him  to  be  the  bird 
he  had  seen  in  his  dream.  ^ 

Some  have  supposed  that  this  old  tradition  intimates  that 
Plato  departed  from  the  method  of  his  master — he  became 
fledged,  and  flew  away  into  the  air.  But  we  know  that  Plato 
did  not  desert  his  master  whilst  he  was  living,  and  there  is  no 
evidence  that  he  abandoned  his  method  after  he  w£fs  dead. 
He  was  the  best  expounder  and  the  most  rigid  observer  of  the 
Socratic  "  organon."  The  influence  of  Socrates  upon  the  phi- 
losophy of  Plato  is  everywhere  discernible.  Plato  had  been 
taught  by  Socrates,  that  beyond  the  world  of  sense  there  is  a 
world  of  eternal  truth,  seen  by  the  eye  of  reason  alone.  He 
had  also  learned  from  him  that  the  eye  of  reason  is  purified 
and  strengthened  by  reflection,  and  that  to  reflect  is  to  observe, 
and  analyze,  and  define,  and  classify  the  facts  of  consciousness. 
Self-reflection,  then,  he  had  been  taught  to  regard  as  the  key 
of  real  knowledge.  By  a  completer  induction,  a  more  careful 
and  exact  analysis,  and  a  more  accurate  definition,  he  carried 
this  philosophic  method  forward  towards  maturity.  He  sought 
to  solve  the  problem  of  being  by  the  principles  revealed  in  his 
own  consciousness,  and  in  the  ultimate  ideas  of  the  reason  to 
find  the  foundation  of  all  real  knowledge,  of  all  truth,  and  of 
all  certitude. 

Plato  was  admirably  fitted  for  these  sublime  investigations 
by  the  possession  of  those  moral  qualities  which  were  so  promi 
nent  in  the  character  of  his  master.     He  had  that  same  deep 
^  Diogenes  Laertius,  "  Lives  of  the  Philosophers,"  bk.  iii.  ch.  vii. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  329 

seriousness  of  spirit,  that  earnestness  and  rectitude  of  purpose, 
that  longing  after  truth,  that  inward  sympathy  with,  and  reve- 
rence for  justice,  and  purity,  and  goodness,  which  dwelt  in  the 
heart  of  Socrates,  and  which  constrained  him  to  believe  in  their 
reality  and  permanence.  He  could  not  endure  the  thought 
that  all  ideas  of  right  were  arbitrary  and  factitious,  that  all 
knowledge  was  unreal,  that  truth  was  a  delusion,  and  certainty 
a  dream.  The  world  of. sense  might  be  fleeting  and  delusive, 
but  the  voice  of  reason  and  conscience  would  not  mislead  the 
upright  man.  The  opinions  of  individual  men  might  vary,  but 
the  universal  consciousness  of  the  race  could  not  prevaricate. 
However  conflicting  the  opinions  of  men  concerning  beautiful 
things,  right  actions,  and  good  sentiments,  Plato  was  persuaded 
there  are  ideas  of  Order,  and  Right,  and  Good,  which  are  uni- 
versal, unchangeable,  and  eternal.  Untruth,  injustice,  and 
wrong  may  endure  for  a  day  or  two,  perhaps  for  a  century  or 
two,  but  they  can  not  always  last ;  they  must  perish.  The.  Just 
thing  and  the  true  thing  are  the  only  enduring  things ;  these 
are  eternal.  Plato  had  a  sublime  convictioa  that  his  mission 
was  to  draw  the  Athenian  mind  away  from  the  fleeting,  the 
transitor}^,  and  the  uncertain,  and  lead  them  to  the  contempla- 
tion of  an  Eternal  Truth,  an  Eternal  Justice,  an  Eternal  Beauty, 
all  proceeding  from  and  united  in  an  Eternal  Being — the  ulti- 
mate ciyaQov  —  the  Supremely  Good.  The  knowledge  of  this 
"  Supreme  Good"  he  regarded  as  the  highest  science.^ 

Added  to  these  moral  qualifications,  Plato  had  the  further 
qualification  of  a  comprehensive  knowledge  of  all  that  had 
been  achieved  by  his  predecessors.  In  this  regard  he  had 
enjoyed  advantages  superior  to  those  of  Socrates.  Socrates 
was  deficient  in  erudition,  properly  so  called.  He  had  studied 
men  rather  than  books.  His  wisdom  consisted  in  an  extensive 
observation^  the  results  of  which  he  had  generalized  with  more 
or  less  accuracy.  A  complete  philosophic  method  demands 
not  only  a  knowledge  of  contemporaneous  opinions  and  modes 
of  thought,  but  also  a  knowledge  of  the  succession  and  devel- 
^  *'  Republic,"  bk.  vi.  ch.  xvi.  p.  193. 


330  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

opment  of  thought  in  past  ages.  Its  instrument  is  not  simply 
psychological  analysis,  but  also  historical  analysis  as  a  counter- 
proof/  And  this  erudition  Plato  supplied.-  He  studied  care- 
fully the  doctrines  of  the  Ionian,  Italian,  and  Eleatic  schools. 
Cratylus  gave  him  special  instruction  in  the  theories  of  Herac- 
litus.^  He  secured  an  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  lofty 
speculations  of  Pythagoras,  under  Archytas  of  Tarentum,  and 
in  the  writings  of  Philolaus,  whose  books  he  is  said  to  have 
purchased.  He  studied  the  principles  of  Parmenides  under 
Hermogenes,^  and  he  more  than  once  speaks  of  Parmenides  in 
terms  of  admiration,  as  one  whom  he  had  early  learned  to  rev- 
erence.* He  studied  mathematics  under  Theodorus,  the  most 
eminent  geometrician  of  his  day.  He  travelled  in  Southern 
Italy,  in  Sicily,  and,  in  search  of  a  deeper  wisdom,  he  pursued 
his  course  to  Egypt.  ^  Enriched  by  the  fruits  of  all  previous 
speculations,  he  returned  to  Athens,  and  devoted  the  remainder 
of  his  life  to  the  development  of  a  comprehensive  system 
"which  was  to  combine,  to  conciliate,  and  to  supersede  them 
all."°  The  knowledge  he  had  derived  from  travel,  from  books, 
from  oral  instruction,  he  fused  and  blended  with  his  own  spec- 
ulations, whilst  the  Socratic  spirit  mellowed  the  whole,  and 
gave  to  it  a  unity  and  scientific  completeness  which  has  excited 
the  admiration  and  wonder  of  succeeding  ages.'' 

The  question  as  to  the  ?iature,  the  sources^  and  the  validity  of 
human  knowledge  had  attracted  general  attention  previous  to 
the  time  of  Socrates  and  Plato.  As  the  results  of  this  pro- 
tracted controversy,  the  opinions  of  philosophers  had  finally 
crystallized  in  two  well-defined  and  opposite  theories  of  knowl- 
edge. 

I.  That  which  reduced  all  knowledge  to  the  accidental  and 

^  Cousin's  "Lectures  on  the  History  of  Philosophy,"  vol.  i.  p.  31. 

^  Aristotle's  "  Metaphysics,"  bk.  i.  ch.  vi. 

^  Diogenes  Laertius,  "Lives  of  the  Philosophers,"  bk.  iii.  ch.  viii.  p.  115. 

*  See  especially  "  Theaetetus,"  §  loi. 

*  Ritter's  "  History  of  Ancient  Philosophy,"  vol.  ii.  p.  147. 

"  Butler's  "  Lectures  on  Ancient  Philosophy,"  vol.  ii.  p.  22. 
'  Encyclopaedia  Britannica,  article  "  Plato." 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  33 1 

passively  receptive  quality  of  the  organs  of  sense,  and  which 
asserted,  as  its  fundamental  maxim,  that  ''^Science  consists  in 
aiadr](Tt  q — sensation. ' '  ^ 

This  doctrine  had  its  foundation  in  the  physical  philosophy 
of  Heraclitus.  He  had  taught  that  all  things  are  in  a  perpetual 
flux  and  change.  "  Motion  gives  the  appearance  of  existence 
and  of  generation."  "  Nothing  is,  but  is  always  a  decomi/ig."^ 
Material  substances  are  perpetually  losing  their  identity,  and 
there  is  no  permanent  essence  or  being  to  be  found.  Hence 
Protagoras  inferred  that  truth  must  vary  with  the  ever-varying 
sensations  of  the  individual.  "  Man  (the  individual)  is  the 
measure  of  all  things."  Knowledge  is  a  purely  relative  thing, 
and  every  man's  opinion  is  truth  for  him.^  The  law  of  right, 
as  exemplified  in  the  dominion  of  a  party,  is  the  law  of  the 
strongest ;  fluctuating  with  the  accidents  of  power,  and  never 
attaining  a  permanent  being.  "  Whatever  a  city  enacts  as  ap- 
pearing just  to  itself,  this  also  is  just  to  the  city  that  enacts  it, 
so  long  as  it  continues  in  force."*  "The  just,  then,  is  nothing 
else  but  that  which  is  expedient  for  the  strongest."^ 

2.  The  second  theory  is  that  which  denies  the  existence  (ex-* 
cept  as  phantasms,  images,  or  mere  illusions  of  the  mind)  of 
the  whole  of  sensible  phenomena,  and  refers  all  knowledge  to 
the  rational  apperception  of  unity  (to  ep)  or  the  One. 

This  was  the  doctrine  of  the  later  Eleatics.  The  world  of 
sense  was,  to  Parmenides  and  Zeno,  a  blank  negation,  the  non 
ens.  The  identity  of  thought  and  existence  was  the  funda- 
mental principle  of  their  philosophy. 

"  Thought  is  the  same  thing  as  the  cause  of  thought ; 
For  without  the  thing  in  which  it  is  announced, 
You  can  not  find  the  thought ;  for  there  is  nothing,  nor  shall  be, 
Except  the  existing."^ 

This  theory,  therefore,  denied  to  man  any  valid  knowledge  of 
the  external  world. 

^  "  Theaetetus,"  §  23.  « Ibid.,  §§  25,  26.  ^  Ibid.,  §§  39,  87. 

*  Ibid.,  §  87.  ^  "  Republic,"  bk.  i.  ch.  xii. 

°  Parmenides,  quoted  in  Lewes's  "  Biog.  History  of  Philosophy,"  p.  54. 


332  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

It  will  at  once  be  apparent  to  the  intelligent  reader  that  the 
direct  and  natural  result  of  both  these  theories*  of  knowledge 
was  a  tendency  to  universal  skepticism.  A  spirit  of  utter  in- 
difference to  truth  and  righteousness  was  the  prevailing  spirit 
of  Athenian  society.  That  spirit  is  strikingly  exhibited  in  the 
speech  of  Callicles,  "  the  shrewd  man  of  the  world,"  in  "  Gor- 
gias"  (§§  85,  86).  Is  this  new  to  our  ears?  "My  dear  Socra- 
tes, you  talk  of  law.  Now  the  laws,  in  my  judgment,  are  just 
the  work  of  the  weakest  and  most  numerous ;  in  framing  them 
they  never  thought  but  of  themselves  and  their  own  interests  j 
they  never  approve  or  censure  except  in  reference  to  this. 
Hence  it  is  that  the  cant  arises  that  tyranny  is  improper  and 
unjust,  and  to  struggle  for  eminence,  guilt.  Unable  to  rise 
themselves,  of  course  they  would  wish  to  preach  liberty  and 
equality.  But  nature  proclaims  the  law  of  the  stronger.  .  .  . 
We  surround  our  children  from  their  infancy  with  preposterous 
prejudices  about  liberty  and  justice.  The  man  of  sense  tram- 
ples on  such  impositions,  and  shows  what  Nature's  justice 
is.  .  .  .  I  confess,  Socrates,  philosophy  is  a  highly  amusing 
study — in  moderation,  and  for  boys.  But  protracted  too  long, 
it  becomes  a  perfect  plague.  Your  philosopher  is  a  complete 
novice  in  the  life  comme  ilfaut.  ...  I  like  very  well  to  see  a 
child  babble  and  stammer ;  there  is  even  a  grace  about  it  when 
it  becomes  his  age.  But  to  see  a  man  .continue  the  prattle  of 
the  child,  is  absurd.  Just  so  with  your  philosophy."  The  con- 
sequence of  this  prevalent  spirit  of  universal  skepticism  was  a 

*  Between  these  two  extreme  theories  there  were  offered  two,  apparently 
less  extravagant,  accounts  of  the  nature  and  limits  of  human  knowledge — 
one  declaring  that  '•'■Science  (real  knowledge)  consists  in  right  opinion  "  (rJdfa 
alrjdijg),  hut  having  no  further  basis  in  the  reason  of  man  ("  Theaetetus," 
§  108) ;  and  the  other  affirming  that  "Science  is  right  opinion  with  logical  ex- 
plication or  definition''''  {ftsTa  loyov),  ("The^tetus,"  §  139).  A  close  exam- 
ination will,  however,  convince  us  that  these  are  but  modifications  of  the 
sensational  theory.  The  latter  forcibly  remind  us  of  the  system  of  Locke, 
who  adds  "reflection"  to  "sensation,"  but  still  maintains  that  all  our  "sim- 
ple ideas "  are  obtained  from  without,  and  that  these  are  the  only  material 
upon  which  reflection  can  be  exercised.  Thus  the  human  mind  has  no  cri- 
terion of  truth  within  itself,  no  elements  of  knowledge  which  are  connatural 
and  inborn. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  333 

general  laxity  of  morals.  The  Alcibiades,  of  the  ^^Symposiu7ji,^^ 
is  the  ideal  representative  of  the  young  aristocracy  of  Athens. 
Such  was  the  condition  of  society  generally,  and  such  the  de- 
generacy of  even  the  Government  itself,  that  Plato  impressively 
declares  "that  God  alone  could  save  the  young  men  of  his  age 
from  ruin."^ 

Therefore  the  grand,  the  vital,  the  most  urgent  question  for 
his  times,  as  indeed  for  all  times,  was.  What  is  Truth  ?  What 
is  Right  ?  In  the  midst  of  all  this  variableness  and  uncertainty 
of  human  opinion,  is  there  no  ground  of  certainty?  Amid  all 
the  fluctuations  and  changes  around  us  and  within  us,  is  there 
nothing  that  is  immutable  and  permanent .''  Have  we  no  ulti- 
mate standard  of  Right?  Is  there  no  criterion  of  Truth? 
Plato  believed  most  confidently  there  was  such  a  criterion  and 
standard.  He  had  learned  from  Socrates,  his  master,  to  cherish 
an  unwavering  faith  in  the  existence  of  an  Eternal  Truth,  an 
Eternal  Order,  an  Eternal  Good,  the  knowledge  of  which  is 
essential  to  the  perfection  and  happmess  of  man,  and  which 
knowledge  must  therefore  be  presumed  to  be  attainable  by 
man.  Henceforth,  therefore,-  the  ceaseless  effort  of  Plato's  life 
is  to  attain  a  standard  (Kpt-rjpioyy — a  criterion  of  truth. 

At  the  outset  of  his  philosophic  studies,  Plato  had  derived 
from  Socrates  an  important  principle,  which  became  the  guide 
of  all  his  subsequent  inquiries.  Pie  had  learned  from  him  that 
the  criterion  of  truth  must  be  no  longer  sought  amid  the  ever- 
changing  phenomena  of  the  "sensible  world."  This  had  been 
attempted  by  the  philosophers  of  the  Ionian  school,  and  ended 
in  failure  and  defeat.  It  must  therefore  be  sought  in  the  meta- 
phenomenal — the  "intelligible  world ;"  that  is,  it  must  be  sought 
in  the  apperceptions  of  the  reason,  and  not  in  opinions  founded 
on  sensation.-  In  other  words,  he  must  look  within.  Here,  by 
reflection,  he  could  recognize,  dimly  and  imperfectly  at  first, 
but  increasing  gradually  in  clearness  and  distinctness,  two 
classes  of  cognitions,  having  essentially  distinct  and  opposite 
characteristics.  He  found  one  class  that  was  complex  (o-vy^ce- 
'  "  Republic,"  bk.  vi.  ch.  vii.  ^  "  Theastetus,"  §  89. 


334  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

Xv^ivoy)f  changeable  (OarEpoy),  contingent  and  relative  (ra  rrpoQ 
Ti  (jyiaiv  exoyra) ;  the  other,  simple  {Keyhypia^ivov),  unchange- 
able (advrjToy),  constant  (ravToy),  permanent  (to  oy  cut),  and 
absolute  {ayvirodsTov  =  airXovy).  One  class  that  may  be  ques- 
tioned, the  other  admitting  of  no  question,  because  self-evident 
and  necessary,  and  therefore  compelling  belief.  One  class 
grounded  on  sense-perception,  the  other  conceived  by  reason 
alone.  But  whilst  the  reason  recognizes,  it  does  not  create 
them.  They  are  not  particular  and  individual,  but  universal. 
They  belong  not  to  the  man,  but  to  the  race. 

He  found,  then,  that  there  are  in  all  minds  certain  "  princi- 
ples "  which  are  fundamental — principles  which  lie  at  the  basis 
of  all  our  cognitions  of  the  objective  world,  and  which,  as 
"  mental  laws,"  determine  all  our  forms  of  thought ;  and  prin- 
ciples, too,  which  have  this  marvellous  and  undeniable  charac- 
ter, that  they  are  encountered  in  the  most  common  experiences, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  instead  of  being  circumscribed  within 
the  limits  of  experience,  transcend  and  govern  it — principles 
which  are  universal  in  the  midst  of  particular  phenomena — 
necessary,  though  mingled  with  things  contingent — to  our  eyes 
infinite  and  absolute,  even  when  appearing  in  us  the  relative  and 
finite  beings  that  we  are.^  These  first  or  fundamental  princi- 
ples Plato  called  ideas  (lliai). 

In  attempting  to  present  to  the  reader  an  adequate  repre- 
sentation of  the  Platonic  Ideas,  we  shall  be  under  the  necessity 
of  anticipating  some  of  the  results. of  his  Dialectical  method 
before  we  have  expounded  that  method.  And,  further,  in 
order  that  it  may  be  properly  appreciated  by  the  modern  stu- 
dent, we  shall  avail  ourselves  of  the  lights  which  modern  psy- 
chology, faithful  to  the  method  of  Plato,  has  thrown  upon  the 
subject.  Whilst,  however,  we  admit  that  modern  psychology 
has  succeeded  in  giving  mere  definiteness  and  precision  to  the 
"  doctrine  of  Ideas,"  we  shall  find  that  all  that  is  fundamentally 
valuable  and  true  was  present  to  the  mind  of  Plato.  Whatever 
superiority  the  "  Spiritual "  philosophy  of  to-day  may  have  over 
^  Cousin's  "  The  True,  the  Beautiful,  and  the  Good,"  p.  40. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  335 

the  philosophy  of  past  ages,  it  has  attained  that  superiority  by 
its  "adherence  to  the  principles  and  method  of  Plato. 

In  order  to  the  completeness  of  our  preliminary  exposition 
of  the  Platonic  doctrine  of  Ideas,  we  shall  conditionally  as- 
sume, as  a  natural  and  legitimate  hypothesis,  the  doctrine  so 
earnestly  asserted  by  Plato,  that  the  visible  universe,  at  least 
in  its  present  form,  is  an  effect  which  must  have  had  a  caused 
and  that  the  Order,  and  Beauty,  and  Excellence  of  the  universe 
are  the  result  of  the  presence  and  operation  of  a  "  regulating 
Intelligence  " —  a  Supreme  Mind^  Now  that,  anterior  to  the 
creation  of  the  universe,  there  must  have  existed  in  the  Eternal 
Mind  certain  fundamental  principles  of  Order,  Right,  and  Good, 
will  not  be  denied.  Every  conceivable  form^  ever}^  possible 
relation,  every  principle  of  right,  must  have  been  eternally  pres- 
ent to  the  Divine  thought.  As  pure  intelligence,  the  Deity 
must  have  always  been  self-conscious — must  have  known  him- 
self as  substance  and  cause,  as  the  Infinite  and  Perfect.  If 
then  the  Divine  Energy  is  put  forth  in  creative  acts,  that  energy 
must  obey  those  eternal  principles  of  Order,  Right,  and  Good. 
If  the  Deity  operate  at  all,  he  must  operate  rightly,  wisely,  and 
well.  The  created  universe  must  be  an  image,  in  the  sphere 
of  sense,  of  the  ideas  which  inhere  in  the  reason  of  the  great 
First  Cause. 

"  Let  us  declare,"  says  Plato,  "  with  what  motive  the  Creator 
hath  formed  nature  and  the  universe.  He  was  good,  and  in 
the  good  no  manner  of  envy  can,  on  any  subject,  possibly  sub- 
sist.    Exempt  from  envy,  he  had  wished* that  all  things  should, 

as  far  as  possible,  resemble  himself. It  was  not,  and  is  not 

to  be  allowed  for  the  Supremely  Good  to  do  any  thing  except 
what  is  most  excellent  (k-aXXtoror) — most  fair,  most  heautiful.^'^ 
Therefore,  argues  Plato,  "inasmuch  as  the  world  is  the  most 
beautiful  of  things,,  and  its  artificer  the  best  of  causes,  it  is  evi- 
dent that  the  Creator  and  Father  of  the  universe  looked  to  the 
Eternal  Model  (Trapadeiyixa),  pattern,  or  plan,"*  which  lay  in  his 

^  "  Timaeus,"  ch.  ix.  ^  "  Phsedo,"  §  105. 

«  "  Timaeus,"  ch.  x.  *  Ibid.,  ch.  ix. 


336  CHRISTIANITY   AND 

own  mind.  And  thus  this  one,  only-generated  universe,  is  the 
image  {eIkujv)  of  that  God  who  is  the  object  of  the  intellect,  the 
greatest,  the  best,  and  the  most  perfect  Being."^ 

And  then,  furthermore,  if  this  Supreme  Intelligence,  this 
Eternal  Mind,  shall  create  another  miiid,  it  must,  in  a  still 
higher  degree,  resemble  him.  Inasmuch  as  it  is  a  rational 
nature,  it  must,  in  a  peculiar  sense,  partake  of  the  Divine  char- 
acteristics. "  The  soul,"  says  Plato,  "  is  that  which  most  par- 
takes of  the  Diviney^  The  soul  must,  therefore,  have  native 
ideas  and  sentiments  which  correlate  it  with  the  Divine  orig- 
inal. The  ideas  of  substance  and  cause,  of  unity  and  identity, 
of  the  infinite  and  perfect,  must  be  mirrored  there.  As  it  is 
the  "  offspring  of  God,"^  it  must  bear  some  traces  and  linea- 
ments of  its  Divine  parentage.  That  soul  must  be  configured 
and  correlated  to  those  principles  of  Order,  Right,  and  Good 
which  dwell  in  the  Eternal  Mind.  And  because  it  has  within 
itself  the  same  ideas  and  laws,  according  to  which  the  great 
Architect  built  the  universe,  therefore  it  is  capable  of  knowing, 
and,  in  some  degree,  of  comprehending,  the  intellectual  system 
of  the  universe.  It  apprehends  the  external  world  by  a  light 
which  the  reason  supplies.  It  interprets  nature  according  to 
principles  and  laws  which  God  has  inwrought  within  the  very 
essence  of  the  soul.  "  That  which  injparts  truth  to  knowable 
things,  and  gives  the  knower  his  power  of  knowing  truth,  is  the 
idea  of  the  good ^  and  you  are  to  conceive  of  this  as  the  source 
of  knowledge  and  of  truth."* 

And  now  we  are  prepared  to  form  a  clear  conception  of  the 
Platonic  doctrine  of  Ideas.  Viewed  in  their  relation  to  the 
Eternal  Reason,  as  giving  the  primordial  thought  and  law  of 
all  being,  these  principles  are  simply  iilx]  avra  kad'  abru — ideas 
in  themselves — the  essential  qualities  or  attributes  of  Him  who 
isthe  supreme  and  ultimate  Cause  of  all  existence.  When  re- 
garded as  before  the  Divme  imagination,  giving  definite  forms 
and  relations,  they  are  the  rvizoiy  the  TrapahiyfjLara — the  types, 

^  "  Timasus,"  ch.  Ixxiii.   •'  ^  "  Laws,"  bk.  v.  ch.  i. 

^  Ibid,  bk.  X.  *  "  Republic,"  bk.  vi.  ch.  xviii. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  337 

models,  patterns,  ideals  according  to  which  the  universe  was 
fashioned.  Contemplated  in  their  actual  embodiment  in  the 
laws,  and  typical  forms  of  the  material  world,  they  are  ukovec, — 
images  of  the  eternal  perfections  of  God.  The  world  of  sense 
pictures  the  world  of  reason  by  a  participation  (nide^ig)  of  the 
ideas.  And  viewed  as  interwoven  in  the  very  texture  and 
framework  of  the  soul,  they  are  o/zoiwyuara — copies  of  the  Divine 
Ideas  which  are  the  primordial  laws  of  knowing,  thinking,  and 
reasoning.  Ideas  are  thus  the  nexus  of  relation  between  God 
and  the  visible  universe,  and  between  the  human  and  the 
Divine  reason.^  There  is  something  divine  in  the  world,  and 
in  the  human  soul,  namely,  t/ie  eternal  laws  and  reasons  of 
things,  mingled  with  the  endless  diversity  .and  change  of  sensi- 
ble phenomena.  These  ideas  are  "  the  light  of  the  intelligible 
world ;"  they  render  the  invisible  world  of  real  Being  percepti- 
ble to  the  reason  of  man.  "  Light  is  the  offspring  of  the  Good, 
which  the  G«od  has  produced  in  his  own  likeness.  Light  in 
the  visible  world  is  what  the  idea  of  the  Good  is  in  the  intelli- 
gible world.  And  this  offspring  of  the  Good — light — has  the 
same  relation  to  vision  and  visible  things  which  the  Good  has 
to  intellect  and  intelligible  things.'"^ 

Science  is,  then,  according  to  Plato,  the  knowledge  of  universal, 
necessary,  unchangeable,  and  eternal  ideas.  The  simple  cognition 
of  the  concrete  phenomena  of  the  universe  is  not  regarded  by 
him  as  real  knowledge.  "  Science,  or  real  knowledge,  belongs 
to  Being,  and  ignorance  to  ;/w^-Being."  Whilst  that  which  is 
conversant  only  "  with  that  which  partakes  of  both — of  being 

*  "Now,  Idea  is,  as  regards  God,  a  mental  operation  by  him  (the  notions 
of  God,  eternal  and  perfect  in  themselves) ;  as  regards  us,  the  first  things 
perceptible  by  mind ;  as  regards  Matter,  a  standard ;  but  as  regards  the 
world,  perceptible  by  sense,  a  pattern ;  but  as  considered  with  reference  to 
itself,  an  existence." — Alcinous,  "  Introduction  to  the  Doctrines  of  Plato," 
p.  261. 

"  What  general  notions  are  to  our  minds,  he  (Plato)  held,  ideas  are  to 
the  Supreme  Reason  {yovq  ^acLkkvq) ;  they  are  the  eternal  thoughts  of  the 
Divine  Intellect,  and  we  attain  truth  when  our  thoughts  conform  with  His 
— when  our  general  notions  are  in  conformity  with  the  ideas." — Thompson, 
"  Laws  of  Thought,"  p.  119. 

^  "  Republic,"  bk.  vi.  ch.  xix. 

22 


338  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

and  non-being — and  which  can  not  be  said  either  to  be  or  not 
to  be" — that  which  is  perpetually  "becoming,"  but  never 
"really  is,"  is  "simply  opinion,  and  not  real  knowledge."^ 
And  those  only  are  "philosophers"  who  have  a  knowledge  of 
the  really -existing,  in  opposition  to  the  mere  seeming;  of  the 
always -existing,  in  opposition  to  the  transitory;  and  of  that 
which  exists  permanently,  in  opposition  to  that  which  waxes  and 
wanes — is  developed  and  destroyed  alternately.  "  Those  who 
recognize  many  beautiful  things,  but  who  can  not  see  the  Beau- 
tiful itself,  and  can  not  even  follow  those  who  would  lead  them 
to  it,  they  opine,  but  do  not  know.  And  the  same  may  be  said 
of  those  who  recognize  right  actions,  but  do  not  recognize  an 
absolute  righteousness.  And  so  of  other  ideas.  But  they  who 
look  at  these  ideas — permanent  and  unchangeable  ideas — these 
men  really  know"^  Those  are  the  true  philosophers  alone  who 
love  the  sight  of  truth,  and  who  have  attained  to  the  vision  of 
the  eternal  order,  and  righteousness,  and  beauty,  and  goodness 
in  the  Eternal  Being.  And  the  means  by  which  the  soul  is 
raised  to  this  vision  of  real  Being  {to  optioq  6v)  is  the  science 

OF  REAL  KNOWLEDGE. 

Plato,  in  the  "  Theaetetus,"  puts  this  question  by  the  in- 
terlocutor Socrates,  "What  is  Science  ('E7rto-n//ir?)  or  positive 
knowledge  ?"^  Thesetetus  essays  a  variety  of  answers,  such  as, 
"  Science  is  sensation,"  "  Science  is  right  judgment  or  opin- 
ion," "  Science  is  right  opinion  with  logical  definition."  These, 
in  the  estimation  of  the  Platonic  Socrates,  are  all  unsatisfac- 
tory and  inadequate.  But  after  you  have  toiled  to  the  end  of 
this  remarkable  discussion,  in  which  Socrates  demolishes  all 
the  then  received  theories  of  knowledge,  he  gives  you  no  an- 
swer of  his  own.  He  abruptly  closes  the  discussion  by  naively 
remarking  that,  at  any  rate,  Theaetetus  will  learn  that  he  does 
not  understand  the  subject;  and  the  ground  is  now  cleared  for 
an  original  investigation. 

This   investigation   is  resumed  in  the  "Republic."     This 

*  "  Republic,"  bk.  v.  ch.  xx.  ^  Ibid.,  bk.  v.  ch.  xxii. 

^  "  Theaetetus,"  §  lo. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


339 


greatest  work  of  Plato's  was  designed  not  only  to  exhibit  a 
scheme  of  Polity,  and  present  a  system  of  Ethics,  but  also,  at 
least  in  its  digressions,  to  propound  a  system  of  Metaphysics 
more, complete  and  solid  than  had  yet  appeared.  The  discus- 
sion as  to  the  powers  or  faculties  by  which  we  obtain  knowledge, 
the  method  or  process  by. which  real  knowledge  is  attained,  and 
the  ultimate  objects  or  ontological  grounds  of  all.  real  knowledge; 
commences  at  §  i8,  book  v.,  and  extends  to  the  end  of  book  vii. 

That  we  may  reach  a  comprehensive  view  of  this  "  sublimest 
of  sciences,"  we  shall  find  it  necessary  to  consider— 

I  St.  What  are  the  powers  or  faculties  by  which  we  obtaijt 
knowledge  J  and  what  are  the  limits  and  degrees  of  hiunan  knowl- 
edge 1  :..... 

2d.  What  is  the  method  in  which^  or  the  processes  and  laws  ac- 
cording to  which^  the  mind  operates  in  obtaining  knowledge  1  . 

3d.  What  are  the  ultimate  results  attained  by  this  method  I 
what  are  the  objective  and  OJitological  grounds  of  all  real  knowl- 
edge'i 

The  answer  to  the  first  question  will  give  the  Platonic 
Psychology  ;  the  answer  to  the  second  will  exhibit  the  Pla- 
tonic Dialectic;  the  answer  to  the  last  will  reveal  the  Pla- 
tonic Ontology. 

I.   PLATONIC  psychology. 

Every  successful  inquiry  as  to  the  reality  and  validity  of 
human  knowledge  must  commence  by  clearly  determining,  by 
rigid  analysis,  what  are  the  actual  phenomena  presented  in 
consciousness,  what  are  the  powers '.  or  faculties  supposed  by 
these  phenomena,  and  what  reliance  are  we  to  place  upon  the 
testimony  of  these  faculties  ?  And,  especially,  if  it  be  asserted 
that  there  is  a  science  of  absolute  Reality,  of  ultimate  and  es- 
sential Being,  then  the  most  important  and  vital  question  is, 
By  what  power  do  we  cognize  real  Being?  through  what  faculty 
do  we  obtain  the  knowledge  of  that  which  absolutely  is  1  If 
by  sensation  we  only  obtain  the  knowledge  of  the  fleeting  and 
the  transitory,  "  the  becoming^""  how  do  we  attain  to  the  knowl- 


34q  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

edge  of  the-  unchangeable  and  permanent,  "the  Being  f  Have 
we  a  faculty  of  universal,  necessary,  and  eternal  principles? 
Have  we  a  faculty,  an  interior  eye  which  beholds  ^U/ie  intelligi- 
ble" ideal;  spiritual  world,  as  the  eye  of  sense  beholds  the  msi- 
h\t  or  ^^  sefisible  world  V^^ 

Plato  commences  this  inquiry  by  first  defining  his  under- 
Standing^  of  the  >word  hvvajxi^— power  ox  faculty.  "  We  will  say 
XYi^t'faciilties  {Ivvajxeio)  are  a  certain  kind  of  real  existences  by 
which  we  can  do  whatever  we  are  able  {e.g.,  to  know),  as  there 
are  powers- by  which  every  thing  does  what  it  does:  the  eye 
has  '2i  power  of  seeing ;  the  ear  has  a  power  of  hearing.  But 
these,  powers  (of  which  I  now  speak)  have  no  color  or  figure  to 
which  I  can  so  refer  that  I  can  distinguish  one  power  from 
another. '  In  ■  order  to  make  such  distinctiofi,  I  must  look  at  the 
power"^ itself,  and  see  what  it  is,-  and  what  it  does.  In  that  way 
I  discern  the.  power  of  each  thing,  and  that  is  the  same  power 
which  produces  the  same  effect,  a,nd  that  is  a  different  power  which 
produces  a  different  effect.'.''^  That  which  is  employed  about, 
and  accdrnplishes'  one  and  the  sarhe  purpose,  this  Plato  calls 
z: faculty. 

We  have  seen  that  our.  first  conceptions  (/.  ^.,  first  in  the 
order  of  time)  are  of  the  mingled,  the  concrete  (ro  o-uy/cex^A*^'" 
vov),  "  the  multiplicity  of  things  to  which  the  multitude  ascribe 
beauty,"  etc.^  The  mind  "contemplates  what  is  great  and 
small,  hot  as  distinct  from  each  other,  but  as  confused."* 
Prior  to  the  discipline  oi  reflection,  "men  are  curious  about 
mere  sights  and  sounds,  love  beautiful  voices,  beautiful  colors, 
beautiful  forms,  but  their  intelligence  can  not  see,  can  not  em- 
brace, the  essential  nature  of  the  Beautiful  itself."^  Man's  con- 
dition previous  to  the  education  of  philosophy  is  vividly  pre- 
sented in  Plato's  simile  of  the  cave.^  He  beholds  only  the  im- 
ages and  shadows  of  the  ectypal  world,  which  are  but  clim  and 
distant  adumbrations  of  the  real  and  archetypal  world.     Pri- 

/  "  Republic,"  bk.  vi.  ch.  xviii.  ""  Ibid.,  bk.  v.  ch.  xxi. 

^  Ibid.,  bk.  V.  ch.  xxii.  ■»  Ibid.,  bk.  vii.  ch.  viii. 

^  Ibid.,  bk.  V.  ch.  xx.  « Ibid.,  bk.  vii.  ch.  i.,  ii. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  34I 

marily  nothing  is  given  in  the  abstract  {to  KeyojpKTiiivov),  but 
every  thing  in  the  concrete.  The  primary  faculties  of  the 
mind  enter  into  action  spontaneously  and  simultaneously ;  all 
our  primary  notions  are  consequently  synthetic.  When  reflec- 
tion is  applied  to  this  primary  totality  of  consciousness,  that 
is,  when  we  analyze  our  notions,  we  find  them  composed  of 
diverse  and  opposite  elements,  some  of  which  are  variable, 
contingent,  individual,  and  relative,  others  are .  permanent,  un- 
changeable, universal,  necessary,  and  absolute.  Now  these 
elements,  so  diverse,  so  opposite,  can  not  have  been  obtained 
from  the  same  source;  they  must  be  supplied  by  separate 
powers.  "Can  any  man  with  common  sense  reduce  under 
one  what  is  infallible,  and  what  is  not  infallible  ?^^^  Can 'that 
which  is  '-'•perpetually  becoming^''  be  apprehended  by  the  same 
faculty  as  that  which  '■'■always  isV^^     Most  assuredly  not.     - 

These  primitive  intuitions — :the. simple  perceptions  of  sensey 
and  the  <^/r/^r/ intuitions  of  the  reason,  which  constitute  the 
elements  of  all  our  complex  notions,  have  essentially  diverse 
objects — the  sensible  or  ectypal  world,  seen  by  the  eye  and 
touched  by  the  hand,  which  Plato  calls  ho^aaTijv — t/ie  subject  of - 
opinion  ;  and  the  noetic  or  archetypal  world,  perceived  by  rea- 
son, and  which  he  calls  liavoryn^nv — the  subject  of  rational  intui- 
tion or  science.  "  It  is  plain,"  therefore,  argues  Plato, '"  that 
opinion  is  a  different  thing  from  science.  They  must,  therefore, 
have  a  ^i^ox&xvt  faculty  in  reference  to  a  different  object^sci- 
ence  as  regards  that  which  is,  so  as  to  know  the  nature  of  real 
being — opinion  as  regards  that  which  can  not  be  said  abso- 
lutely to  be,  or  not  to  be.  That  which  is  known  and  that 
which  is  opined  can  not  possibly  be  the  same, ....  since  they 
are  naturally  faculties  of  different  things,  and  both  of  them  are 
faculties — opinion  and  science,  and  each  of  them  different  from 
the  other."'  Here  then  are  two  grand  divisions  of  the  mental 
powers — a  faculty  of  apprehending  universal  and  necessary 

^  "  Republic,"  bk.  v.  ch.  xxi. 

'^  Ibid.,  bk.  V.  ch.  xxii. ;  also  "  Timseus,"  §  9. 

^  Ibid.,  bk.  V.  ch.  xxi.,  xxii. 


342  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

Truth,  of  intuitively  beholding  absolute  Reality,  and  a  faculty 
of  perceiving  sensible  objects,  and  of  judging  according  to  ap- 
pearance. 

According  to  the  scheme  of  Plato,  these  two  general  divis- 
ions of  the  mental  powers  are  capable  of  a  further  subdivision. 
He  says  :  "  Consider  that  there  are  two  kinds  of  things,  the  in- 
ielligible  diXid  tho.  visible ;  two  different  regions,  the  intelligible 
world  and  the  sensible  world.  Now  take  a  line  divided  into 
two  equal  segments  to  represent  these  two  regions,  and  again 
divide  each  segment  in  the  same  ratio — both  that  of  the  visible 
and  that  of  the  intelligible  species.  The  parts  of  each  segment 
are  to  represent  differences  of  clearness  and  indistinctness.  In 
the  visible  world  the  parts  are  things  and  images.  By  images 
I. mean  shadows,^  reflections  in  water  and  in  polished  bodies, 
and  all  such  like  representations ;  and  by  things  I  mean  that 
of  which  images  are  resemblances,  as  animals,  plants,  and 
things  made  by  man.  ' 

"You  allow  that  this  difference  corresponds  to  the  differ- 
ence .  of  knowledge  and  opinion ;  and  the  opinionahle  is  to  the 
k7io'wahle  as  the  image  to  the  reality  J 

"  Now  we  have  to  divide  the  segment  which  represents  intel- 

^  As  in  the  simile  of  the  cave  ("  Republic,"  bk.  vii.  ch.  i.  and  ii.). 

^  The  analogy  between  the  "images  produced  by  reflections  in  water 
and  on  polished  surfaces"  and  "the  images  of  external  objects  produced  in 
the  mind  by  sensation"  is  more  fully  presented  in  the  "Timasus,"  ch.  19. 

The  eye  is  a  light-bearer,  "  made  of  that  part  of  elemental  fire  which 
does  not  burn,  but  sheds  a  mild  light,  like  the  light  of  day.  .  .  .  When  the 
light  of  the  day  meets  the  light  which  beams  from  the  eye,  then  light  meets 
like,  and  make  a  homogeneous  body ;  the  external  light  meeting  the  inter- 
nal light,  in  the  direction  in  which  the  eye  looks.  And  by  this  homogeneity 
like  feels  like;  and  if  this  beam  touches  any  object,  or  any  object  touches  it, 
it  transmits  the  motions  through  the  body  to  the  soul,  and  produces  that 
sensation  which  we  call  seeing.  .  .  .  And  if  (in  sleep)  some  of  the  strong 
motions  remain  in  some  part  of  the  frame,  they  produce  within  us  likenesses 
of  external  objects, .  .  .  and  thus  give  rise  to  dreams.  ...  As  to  the  images 
produced  by  mirrors  and  by  smooth  surfaces,  they  are  now  easily  explained, 
for  all  such  phenomena  result  from  the  mutual  affinity  of  the  external  and 
internal  fires.  The  light  that  proceeds  from  the  face  (as  an  object  of  vision), 
and  the  light  that  proceeds  from  the  eye,  become  one  continuous  ray  on  the 
smooth  surface." 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  343 

ligible  things  in  this  way :  The  one  part  represents  the  knowl- 
edge which  the  mind  gets  by  using  things  as  images — the  other, 
that  which  it  has  by  dealing  with  the  ideas  themselves ;  the 
one  part  that  which  it  gets  by  reasoning  downward  from  prin- 
ciples—  the  other,  the  primciples  themselves;  the  one  part, 
truth  which  depends  on  hypotheses — the  other,  unhypothetical 
or  absolute  truth. 

"Thus,  to  explain  a  problem  in  geometry,  the  geometers 
make  certain  hypotheses  (namely,  definitions  and  postulates) 
about  numbers  and  angles,  and  the  like,  and  reason  from  them 
— giving  no  reason  for  their  assumptions,  but  taking  them  as 
evident  to  all ;  and,  reasoning  from  them,  they  prove  the  prop- 
ositions which  they  have  in  view.  And  in  such  reasonings, 
they  use  visible  figures  or  diagrams — to  reason  about  a  square, 
for  instance,  with  its  diagonals ;  but  these  reasonings  are  not 
really  about  these  visible  figures,  but  about  the  mental  figures, 
and  which  they  conceive  in  thought. 

"  The  diagrams  which  they  draw,  being  visible,  are  the  im- 
ages of  thoughts  which  the  geometer  has  in  his  mind,  and  these 
images  he  uses  in  his  reasoning.  There  may  be  images  of 
these  images — shadows  and  reflections  in  water,  as  of  other 
visible  things;  but  still  these  diagrams  are  only  images  of  con- 
ceptions. 

"  This,  then,  is  07te  kind  of  intelligible  things  :  conceptio7is — for 
instance,  geometrical  conceptions  of  figures.  But  in  dealing 
with  these  the  mind  depends  upon  assumptions,  and  does  not 
ascend  to  first  principles.  It  does  not  ascend  above  these  as- 
sumptions, but  uses  images  borrowed  from  a  lower  region  (the 
visible  world),  these  images  being  chosen  so  as  to  be  as  dis- 
tinct as  may  be. 

"  Now  the  other  kind  of  intelligible  things  is  this  :  that  which 
the  Reason  includes,  in  virtue  of  its  power  of  reasoning,  when 
it  regards  the  assumptions  of  the  sciences  as  (what  they  are) 
assumptions  only,  and  uses  them  as  occasions  and  starting- 
points,  that  from  these  it  may  ascend  to  the  Absolute^  which 
does  not  depend  upon  assumption,  the  origin  of  scientific  truth. 


344  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

The  reason  takes  hold  of  this  first  principle  of  truths  and  availing, 
itself  of  all  the  connections  and  relations  of  this  principle,  it 
proceeds  to  the  conclusion — using  no  sensible  image  in  doing 
this,  but  contemplates  the  idea  alone ;  and  with  these  ideas  the 
process  begins,  goes  on,  and  terminates." 

"  I  apprehend,"  said  Glaucon,  "  but  not  very  clearly,  for  the 
matter  is  somewhat  abstruse.  You  wish  to  prove  that  the  knowl- 
edge which  by  the  reason,  in  an  intuitive  manner,  we  may  acquire 
of  real  existence  and  intelligible  things  is  of  a  higher  degree  of  cer- 
tainty than  the  knowledge  which  belongs  to  what  are  commonly 
called  the  Sciences.  Such  sciences,  you  say,  have  certain  as- 
sumptions for  their  basis;  and  these  assumptions  are  by  the 
student  of  such  sciences  apprehended  not  by  sense,  but  by  a 
mental  operation — by  conception. 

"  But  inasmuch  as  such  students  ascend  no  higher  than  as- 
sumptions, and  do  not  go  to  the  first  principles  of  truth,  they 
do  not  seem  to  have  true  knowledge,  intellectual  insight,  intui- 
tive reason,  on  the  subjects  of  their  reasonings,  though  the  sub- 
jects are  intelligible  things.  And  you  call  this  habit  and  prac- 
tice of  the  geometers  and  others  by  the  name  of  judgment 
i^iavoia),  not  reason,  or  insight,  or  intuition — taking  judgment 
to  be  something  between  opinion,  on  the  one  side,  and  intuitive 
reason,  on  the  other. 

"  You  have  explained  it  well,"  said  I.  "  And  now  consider 
these  four  kinds  of  things  we  have  spoken  of,  as  corresponding 
to  four  affections  (or  faculties)  of  the  mind.  Intuitive  rea- 
son (voT/fftc),  the  highest;  judgment  {f,iavoia)  (or  discursive  rea- 
son), the  next ;  the  third,  belief  {iriffnc) ;  and  the  fourth,  con- 
jecture, or  guess  (ekaaia) ;  and  arrange  them  in  order,  so  that 
they  may  be  held  to  have  more  or  less  certainty,  as  their  ob- 
jects have  more  or  less  truth."'  The  completeness,  and  even 
accuracy  of  this  classification  of  all  the  object's  of  human  cog- 
nition, and  of  the  corresponding  mental  powers,  will  be  seen 
at  once  by  studying  the  diagram  proposed  by  Plato,  as  figured 
on  the  opposite  page. 

*  **  Republic,"  bk.  vi.  ch,  xx,  and  xxi, 


OBEEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


345 


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346  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

The  foregoing  diagram,  borrowed  from  Whewell,  with  some 
modifications  and  additions  we  have  ventured  to  make,  exhibits 
a  perfect  view  of  the  Platonic  scheme  of  the  cognitive  powers — 
the  faculties  by  which  the  mind  attains  to  different  degrees  of 
knowledge,  "having  more  or  less  certainty,  as  their  objects 
have  more  or  less  truth.'" 

ist.  Sensation  {ciitrdrjcrig). — This  term  is  employed  by  Plato 
to  denote  the  passive  mental  states  or  affections  which  are  pro- 
duced within  us  by  external  objects  through  the  medium  of  the 
vital  organization,  and  also  the  cognition  or  vital  perception  or 
consciousness'^  which  the  mind  has  of  these  mental  states. 

2d.  Phantasy  {^avTaaia). — This  term  is  employed  to  de- 
scribe the  power  which  the  mind  possesses  of  imagining  or 
representing  whatever  has  once  been  the  object  of  sensation. 
This  may  be  done  involuntarily  as  "  in  dreams,  disease,  and 
hallucination,'"  or  voluntarily,  as  in  reminiscence.  Oarmcr/xara 
are  the  images,  the  life-pictures  (i^wypcKprjfia)  of  sensible  things 
which  are  present  to  the  mind,  even  when  no  external  object 
is  present  to  the  sense. 

The  conjoint  action  of  these  two  powers  results  in  what  Plato 
calls  opinion  i^o^a).  "  Opinion  is  the  complication  of  memory 
and  sensation.  For  when  we  meet  for  the  first  time  with  a 
thing  perceptible  by  a  sense,  and  a  sensation  is  produced  by  it, 
and  from  this  sensation  a  memory,  and  we  subsequently  meet 
again  with  the  same  thing  perceived  by  a  sense,  we  combine 
the  memory  previously  brought  into  action  with  the  sensation 
produced  a  second  time,  and  we  say  within  ourselves  [this  is] 
Socrates,  or  a  horse,  or  fire,  or  whatever  thing  there  may  be  of 

^  "  Republic,"  bk.  vii.  ch.  xix. 

'  "In  Greek  philosophy  there  was  no  term  for  'consciousness'  until  the 
decline  of  philosophy,  and  in  the  latter  ages  of  the  language.  Plato  and 
Aristotle,  to  say  nothing  of  other  philosophers,  had  no  special  term  to  ex- 
press the  knowledge  which  the  mind  has  of  the  operation  of  its  own  facul- 
ties, though  this,  of  course,  was  necessarily  a  frequent  matter  of  considera- 
tion. Intellect  was  supposed  by  them  to  be  cognizant  of  its  own  opera- 
tions. ...  In  his  '  Thesetetus '  Plato  accords  to  sense  the  power  of  perceiv- 
ing that  it  perceives." — Hamilton's  "Metaphysics,"  vol.  i.  p.  198  (Eng.  ed.). 

^"Theaetetus,"  §39. 


GREEK   PHILOSOPHY.  347 

such  a  kind.  Now  this  is  called  opinion^  through  our  combin- 
ing the  recollection  brought  previously  into  action  with  the  sen- 
sation recently  produced.  And  when  these,  placed  along  each 
other,  agree,  a  true  opinion  is  produced  ;  but  when  they  swerve 
from  each  other,  a  false  one."^  The  16'ia  of  Plato,  therefore, 
answers  to  the  experience,  or  the  empirical  knowledge  oimodiein 
philosophy,  which  is  concerned  only  with  appearances  (phe- 
nomena), and  not  with  absolute  realities,  and  can  not  be  ele- 
vated to  the  dignity  oi  science  or  real  knowledge. 

We  are  not  from  hence  to  infer  that  Plato  intended  to  deny 
all  reality  whatever  to  the  objects  of  sensible  experience.  These 
transitory  phenomena  were  not  real  existences,  but  they  were 
images  of  real  existences.  The  world  itself  is  but  the  image, 
in  the  sphere  of  sense,  of  those  ideas  of  Order,  and  Proportion, 
and  Harmony,  which  dwell  in  the  Divine  Intellect,  and  are 
mirrored  in  the  soul  of  man.  "  Time  itself  is  a  moving  image 
of  Eternity."*  But  inasmuch  as  the  immediate  object  of  sense- 
perception  is  a  representative  image  generated  in  the  vital  or- 
ganism, and  all  empirical  cognitions  are  mere  "conjectures" 
(ekaalat)  founded  on  representative  images,  they  need  to  be 
certified  by  a  higher  faculty,  which  immediately  apprehends 
real  Being  {to  6v).  Of  things,  as  they  are  in  themselves,  the 
senses  give  us  no  knowledge ;  all  that  in  sensation  we  are  con- 
scious of  is  certain  affections  of  the  mind  (iradog) ;  the  exist- 
ence of  self,  or  the  perceiving  subject,  and  a  something  external 
to  self,  a  perceived  object,  are  revealed  to  us,  not  by  the  senses, 
but  by  the  reason. 

3d.  Judgment  (ciavoia,  Xoyog),  the  Discursive  Faculty,  or  the 
Faculty  of  Relatiotis. — According  to  Plato,  this  faculty  proceeds 
on  the  assumption  of  certain  principles  as  true,  without  inquir- 
ing into  their  validity,  and  reasons,  by  deduction,  to  the  conclu- 
sions which  necessarily  flow  from  these  principles.  These  as- 
sumptions Plato  calls  hypotheses  {hxoQiauQ).  But  by  hypotheses 
he  does  not  mean  baseless  assumptions — mere  theories — but 

^  Alcinous,  "  Introduction  to  the  Doctrine  of  Plato,"  p.  247. 
=^  "  Timaeus,"  §  14. 


348  .  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

things  self-evident  and  "obvious  to  all;"^  as  for  example,  the 
postulates  and  definitions  of  Geometry.  "After  laying  down 
hypotheses  of  the  odd  and  even,  and  three  kinds  of  angles 
[right,  acute,  and  obtuse],  and  figures  [as  the  triangle,  square, 
circle,  and  the  like],  he  proceeds  on  them  as  known,  and  gives  no 
further  reason  about  them,  and  reasons  downward  from  these 
principles,'"*  affirming  certain  judgments  as  consequences  de- 
ducible  therefrom. 

All  judgments  are  therefore  founded  on  relations.  To  judge 
is  to  compare  two  terms.  "  Every  judgment  has  three  parts  : 
the  subject,  or  notion  about  which  the  judgment  is  j  the  predi- 
cate, or  notion  with  which  the  subject  is  compared ;  and  the 
copula,  or  nexus,  which  expresses  the  connection  or  relation  be- 
tween them."^  Every  act  of  affirmative  judgment  asserts  the 
agreement  of  the  predicate  and  subject ;  every  act  of  negative 
judgment  asserts  the  predicate  and  subject  do  not  agree.  All 
judgment  is  thus  an  attempt  to  reduce  to  unity  two  cognitions, 
and  reasoning  (Xoyi^ecrOai)  is  simply  the  extension  of  this  process. 
When  we  look  at  two  straight  lines  of  equal  length,  v/e  do  not 
merely  think  of  them  separately  as  this  straight  line,  and  that 
straight  line,  but  they  are  immediately  connected  together  by  a 
comparison  which  takes  place  in  the  mind.  We  perceive  that 
these  two  lines  are  alike ;  they  are  of  equal  length,  and  they 
are  both  straight;  and  the  connection  which  is  perceived  as 
existing  between  them  is  a  relation  of  sameness  or  identity.^ 
When  we  observe  any  change  occurring  in  nature,  as,  for  ex- 
ample, the  melting  of  wax  in  the  presence  of  heat,  the  mind 
recognizes  a  causal  efficiency  in  the  fire  to  produce  that  change, 
and  the  relation  now  apprehended  is  a  relation  of  cause  and  ef- 
fect!' But  the  fundamental  principles,  the  necessary  ideas 
which  lie  at  the  basis  of  all  the  judgments  (as  the  ideas  of 
space  and  time,  of  unity  and  identity,  of  substance  and  cause, 
of  the  infinite  and  perfect)  are  not  given  by  the  judgment,  but 

*  "  Republic,"  bk.  vi.  ch.  xx,  "^  Ibid,  bk.  vi.  ch.  xx. 

'  Thompson's  "  Laws  of  Thought,"  p.  134. 

"  "  Phaedo,"  §§  50-57,  62.  "  "  Timaeus,"  ch.  ix. ;  "  Sophocles,"  §  109. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  349 

by  the  "highest  faculty" — the  Intuitive  Reason^^  which  is,  for 
us,  the  source  of  all  unhypothetical  and  absolute  knowledge. 

The  knowledge,  therefore,  which  is  furnished  by  the  Discur- 
sive Reason,  Plato  does  not  regard  as  "  real  Science."  "  It  is 
something  between  Opinion  on  the  one  hand,  and  Intuition  on 
the  other."' 

4th.  Reason  (vovq) — Intuitive  Reason^  is  the  organ  of  self- 
evident,  necessary,  and  universal  Truth.  In  an  immediate, 
direct,  and  intuitive  manner,  it  takes  hold  on  truth  with  abso- 
lute certainty.  The  reason,  through  the  medium  of  ideas^  holds 
communion  with  the  world  of  real  Being.  These  ideas  are  the 
light  which  reveals  the  world  of  unseen  realities,  as  the  sun  re- 
veals the  world  of  sensible  forms.  "  The  idea  of  the  good  is  the 
sun  of  the  Intelligible  World ;  it  sheds  on  objects  the  light  of 
truth,  and  gives  to  the  soul  that  knows,  the  ppwer  of  knowing."' 
Under  this  light,  the  eye  of  reason  apprehends  the  eternal 
World  of  "being  as  truly,  yes  more  truly,  than  the  eye  of  sense 
apprehends  the  world  of  phenomena.  This  power  the  rational 
soul  possesses  by  virtue  of  its  having  a  nature  kindred,  or  even 
homogeneous  with  the  Divinity.  It  was  "  generated  by  the  Di- 
vine Father,"  and,  like  him,  it  is  in  a  certain  sense  ^^  eternal."* 
Not  that  we  are  to  understand  Plato  as  teaching  that  the  ra- 
tional soul  had  an  independent  and  underived  existence  j  it 

^  "  Republic,"  bk.  vi.  ch.  xxi.  ^  Ibid.,  bk.  vi.  ch.  xxi. 

^  Ibid.,  bk.  vi.  ch.  xix. ;  see  also  ch.  xviii. 

*  The  reader  must  familiarize  himself  with  the  Platonic  notion  of  "  eterni- 
ty,^'' as  a  fixed  state  out  of  time  existing  contemporaneous  with  one  in  time,  to  ap- 
preciate the  doctrine  of  Plato  as  stated  above.  If  we  regard  his  idea  of 
eternity  as  merely  an  indefinite  extension  of  time,  with  a  past,  a  present, 
and  a  future,  we  can  offer  no  rational  interpretation  of  his  doctrine  of  the 
eternal  nature  of  the  rational  essence  of  the  soul.  An  eternal  nature  "  gen- 
erated" in  a  "past"  or  "present"  time  is  a  contradiction.  But  that  was 
not  Plato's  conception  of  "  eternity,"  as  the  reader  will  discover  on  perusing 
the  "  Timaeus  "  (ch.  xiv.).  "  God  resolved  to  create  a  moving  image  of  eter- 
nity, ....  and  out  of  that  eternity  which  reposes  in  its  own  unchangeable  unity 
he  framed  an  eternal  image  moving  according  to  numerical  succession, 
which  we  call  Time.  Nothing  can  be  more  inaccurate  than  to  apply  the 
terms,  past,  present,  future,  to  real  Being,  which  is  immovable.  Past  and 
future  are  expressions  only  suitable  to  generation  which  proceeds  through 
time."     Time  reposes  on  the  bosom  of  eternity,  as  all  bodies  are  in  space. 


350  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

was  created  or  "generated"  in  eternity/  and  even  now,  in  its 
incorporate  state,  is  not  amenable  to  tiie  conditions  of  time 
and  space,  but,  in  a  peculiar  sense,  dwells  in  eternity;  and 
therefore  is  capable  of  beholding  eternal  realities,  and  coming 
into  communion  with  absolute  beauty,  and  goodness,  and  truth 
— that  is,  with  God,  the  Absolute  Being, 

Thus  the  soul  {\pvxh)  as  a  composite  nature  is  on  one  side 
linked  to  the  eternal  world,  its  essence  being  generated  of  that 
ineffable  element  which  constitutes  the  real,  the  immutable, 
and  the  permanent.  It  is  a  beam  of  the  eternal  Sun,  a  spark 
of  the  Divinity,  an  emanation  from  God.  On  the  other  side  it 
is  linked  to  the  phenomenal  or  sensible  world,  its  emotive  part'* 
being  formed  of  that  which  is  relative  and  phenomenal.  The 
soul  of  man  thus  stands  midway  between  the  eternal  and  the 
contingent,  the  real  and  the  phenomenal,  and  as  such,  it  is  the 
mediator  between,  and  the  interpreter  of,  both. 

In  the  allegory  of  the  "  Chariot  and  Winged  Steeds  "^  Plato 
represents  the  lower  or  inferior  part  of  man's  nature  as  drag- 
ging the  soul  down  to  the  earth,  and  subjecting  it  to  the  slavery 
and  debasement  of  corporeal  conditions.  Out  of  these  con- 
ditions there  arise  numerous  evils  that  disorder  the  mind  and 
becloud  the  reason,  for  evil  is  inherent  to  the  condition  of  finite 
and  multiform  being  into  which  we  have  "  fallen  by  our  own 
fault."  The  present  earthly  life  is  a  fall  and  a  punishment.  The 
soul  is  now  dwelling  in  "the  grave  we  call  the  body."  In  its 
incorporate  state,  and  previous  to  the  discipline  of  education, 
the  rational  element  is  "asleep."  "Life  is  more  of  a  dream 
than  a  reality."  Men  are  utterly  the  slaves  of  sense,  the  sport 
of  phantoms  and  illusions.  We  now  resemble  those  "  captives 
chained  in  a  subterraneous  cave,"  so  poetically  described  in  the 
seventh  book  of  the  "  Republic  ;"  their  backs  are  turned  to  the 
light,  and  consequently  they  see  but  the  shadows  of  the  objects 

^  "  Timaeus,"  ch.  xvi.,  and  "  Phaedrus,"  where  the  soul  is  pronounced 
apxv  ^^  ayevTjTov. 

^  Qv/ioEideg,  the  seat  of  the  nobler — eTriOvuTfTiKdv,  the  seat  of  the  baser 
passions. 

""  Phadrus,"  §  54-62. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


351 


which  pass  behind  them,  and  they  "  attribute  to  these  shadows 
a  perfect  reality."  Their  sojourn  upon  earth  is  thus  a  dark 
imprisonment  in  the  body,  a  dreamy  exile  from  their  proper 
home.  "Nevertheless  these  pale  fugitive  shadows  suffice  to 
revive  in  us  the  reminiscence  of  that  higher  world  we  once  in- 
habited, if  we  have  not  absolutely  given  the  reins  to  the  im- 
petuous untamed  horse  which  in  Platonic  symbolism  represents 
the  emotive  sensuous  nature  of  man."  The  soul  has  some  dim 
and  shadowy  recollection  of  its  ante-natal  state  of  bliss,  and 
some  instinctive  and  proleptic  yearnings  for  its  return. 

"Our  birth  is  but  a  sleep  and  a  forgetting; 
The  soul  that  rises  with  us,  our  life's  star, 

Has  had  elsewhere  its  setting, 

And  Cometh  from  afar. 

Not  in  entire  forgetfulness, 

And  not  in  utter  nakedness, 
But  trailing  clouds  of  glory,  do  we  come 
From  God,  who  is  our  horne."^ 

Exiled  from  the  true  home  of  the  spirit,  imprisoned  in  the 
body,  disordered  by  passion,  and  beclouded  by  sense,  the  soul 
has  yet  longings  after  that  state  of  perfect  knowledge,  and 
purity,  and  bliss,  in  which  it  was  first  created.  Its  affinities 
are  still  on  high.  It  yearns  for  a  higher  and  nobler  form  of 
life.  It  essays  to  rise,  but  its  eye  is  darkened  by  sense,  its 
wings  are  besmeared  by  passion  and  lust ;  it  is  "  borne  down- 
ward, until  at  length  it  falls  upon  and  attaches  itself  to  that 
which  is  material  and  sensual,"  and  it  flounders  and  grovels 
still  amid  the  objects  of  sense. 

And  now,  with  all  that  seriousness  and  earnestness  of  spirit 
which  is  peculiarly  Christian,  Plato  asks  how  the  soul  may  be 
delivered  from  the  illusions  of  sense,  the  distempering  influ- 
ence of  the  body,  and  the  disturbances  of  passion,  which  be- 
cloud its  vision  of  the  real,  the  good,  and  the  true  ? 

Plato  believed  and  hoped  this  could  be  accomplished  by 
philosophy.  This  he  regarded  as  a  grand  intellectual  discipline 
for  the  purification  of  the  soul.  By  this  it  was  to  be  disen- 
^  Wordsworth,  "  Ode  on  the  Intimations  of  Immortality,"  vol.  v. 


1 


352  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

thralled  from  the  bondage  of  sense^  and  raised  into  the  em- 
pyrean of  pure  thought  "  where  truth  and  reality  shine  forth." 
All  souls  have  the  faculty  of  knowing,  but  it  is  only  by  reflec- 
tion, and  self-knowledge,  and  intellectual  discipline,  that  the 
soul  can  be  raised  to  the  vision  of  eternal  truth,  goodness,  and 
beauty — that  is,  to  the  vision  of  God.  And  this  intellectual  dis- 
cipline was  the  Platonic  Dialectic. 

^  Not,  however,  fully  in  this  life.  The  consummation  of  the  intellectual 
struggle  into  "the  intelligible  world"  is  death.  The  intellectual  discipline 
was  therefore  iitXht]  davarov,  a  preparatioti  for  death. 


GBEEK  PHILOSOPHY.  353 


CHAPTER  XL 

THE   PHILOSOPHERS    OF   ATHENS  {continued). 
THE  SOCRATIC  SCHOOL  (continued). 

PLATO. 
IL    THE    PLATONIC   DIALECTIC. 

THE  Platonic  Dialectic  is  the  Science  of  Eternal  and  Im- 
mutable Principles,  and  the  method  {o^yavov)  by  which 
these  first  principles  are  brought  forward  into  the  clear  light 
of  consciousness.  The  student  of  Plato  will  have  discovered 
that  he  makes  no  distinction  between  logic  and  metaphysics. 
These  are  closely  united  in  the  one  science  to  which  he  gives 
the  name  of  "  Dialectic^^  and  which  was  at  once  the  science  of 
the  ideas  and  laws  of  the  Reason,  and  of  the  mental  process 
by  which  the  knowledge  of  Real  Being  is  attained,  and  a 
ground  of  absolute  certainty  is  found.  This  science  has,  in 
modern  times,  been  called  Prhnordial  or  Transcendental  Logic. 

We  have  seen  that  Plato  taught  that  the  human  reason  is 
originally  in  possession  of  fundamental  and  necessary  ideas — 
the  copies  of  the  archetypal  ideas  which  dwell  in  the  eternal 
Reason ;  and  that  these  ideas  are  the  primordial  laws  of 
thought — that  is,  they  are  the  laws  under  which  we  conceive 
of  all  objective  things,  and  reason  concerning  all  existence. 
These  ideas,  he  held,  are  not  derived  from  sensation,  neither 
are  they  generalizations  from  experience,  but  they  are  inborn 
and  connatural.  And,  further,  he  entertained  the  belief,  more, 
however,  as  a  reasonable  hypothesis^  than  as  a  demonstrable 
truth,  that  these  standard  principles  were  acquired  by  the  soul 

'  Within  "  the  ek($rwv  nvQufv  ■  'Ma  —  the  category  of  probability." — 
«  Phffido." 

23 


354  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

in  a  pre-existent  state  in  which  it  stood  face  to  face  with  ideas 
of  eternal  order,  beauty,  goodness,  and  truth.^  "Journeying 
with  the  Deity,"  the  soul  contemplated  justice,  wisdom,  sci- 
ence— not  that  science  which  is  concerned  with  change,  and 
which  appears  under  a  different  manifestation  in  different  ob- 
jects, w^hich  we  choose  to  call  beings ;  but  such  science  as  is 
in  that  which  alone  is  indeed  heing^  Ideas,  therefore,  belong 
to,  and  inhere  in,  that  portion  of  the  soul  which  is  properly 
ovala— essence  or  being;  which  had  an  existence  anterior  to 
time,  and  even  now  has  no  relation  to  time,  because  it  is  now 
in  eternity — that  is,  in  a  sphere  of  being  to  which  past,  present, 
and  future  can  have  no  relation.^ 

All  knowledge  of  truth  and  reality  is,  therefore,  according 
to  Plato,  a  REMINISCENCE  {ava^vi](nq) — a  recovery  of  partially 
forgotten  ideas  which  the  soul  possessed  in  another  state  of 
existence ;  and  the  dialectic  of  Plato  is  simply  the  effort,  by  apt 
interrogation^  to  lead  the  mind  to  "  recoUect^'''^  the  truth  which  has 
been  formerly  perceived  by  it,  and  is  even  now  in  the  memory 
though  not  in  consciousness.  An  illustration  of  this  method 
is  attempted  in  the  "  Meno,^^  where  Plato  introduces  Socrates 
as  making  an  experiment  on  the  mind  of  an  uneducated  per- 
son. Socrates  puts  a  series  of  questions  to  a  slave  of  Meno, 
and  at  length  elicits  from  the  youth  a  right  enunciation  of  a 
geometrical  truth.  Socrates  then  points  triumphantly  to  this 
instance,  and  bids  Meno  observe  that  he  had  not  taught  the 
youth  any  thing,  but  simply  interrogated  him  as  to  his  opinions, 
whilst  the  youth  had  recalled  the  knowledge  previously  existing 
in  his  own  mind.^ 

Now  whilst  we  readily  grant  that  the  instance  given  in  the 
"  Meno  "  does  not  sustain  the  inference  of  Plato  that  "  the  boy  " 
had  learnt  these  geometrical  truths  "  in  eternity,"  and  that  they 
had  simply  been  brought  forward  into  the  view  of  his  con- 

*  "  Phaedo,"  §  50-56.  ^  "  Phaedrus,"  §  58.  "  See  note  on  p.  349. 

*  "  To  learn  is  to  recover  our  own  previous  knowledge,  and  this  is  prop- 
erly to  recollect:'—''  Phsedo,"  §  55. 

*  "Meno,"  §  16-20.  "Now  for  a  person  to  recover  knowledge  himself 
through  himself,  is  not  this  to  recollect.''^ 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  355 

sciousness  by  the  "  questioning "  of  Socrates,  yet  it  certainly 
does  prove  that  there  are  ideas  or  principles  ifi  the  hm?ian  reason 
which  are  not  derived  from  without— which  are  anterior  to  all 
experience,  and  for  the  development  of  which,  experience  furnishes 
the  occasion,  hut  is  not  the  origin  and  source.  By  a  kind  of  lofty 
inspiration,  he  caught  sight  of  that  most  important  doctfine  of 
modern  philosophy,  so  clearly  and  logically  presented  by  Kant, 
that  the  Reason  is  the  source  of  a  pure  a  priori  knowledge — a 
knowledge  native  to,  and  potentially  in  the  mind,  antecedent 
to  all  experience,  and  which  is  simply  brought  out  into  the  field 
of  consciousness  by  experience  conditions.  Around  this  great- 
est of  all  metaphysical  truths  Plato  threw  a  gorgeous  mythic 
dress,  and  presented  it  under  the  most  picturesque  imagery.* 
But,  when  divested  of  the  rich  coloring  which  the  glowing  im- 
agination of  Plato  threw  over  it,  it  is  but  a  vivid  presentation 
of  the  cardinal  truth  that  there  are  ideas  in  the  mind  which  have 
not  been  derived  from  without,  and  which,  therefore,  the  mind 
brought  with  it  into  the  present  sphere  of  being.  The  validity 
and  value  of  this  fundamental  doctrine,  even  as  presented  by 
Plato,  is  unaffected  by  any  speculations  in  which  he  may  have 
indulged,  as  to  the  pre-existence  of  the  soul.  He  simply  re- 
garded this  doctrine  of  pre-existence  as  highly  probable  —  a 
plausible  explanation  of  the  facts.  That  there  are  ideas,  in- 
nate and  connatural  to  the  human  mind,  he  clung  to  as  the 
most  vital,  most  precious,  most  certain  of  all  truths ;  and  to 
lead  man  to  the  recognitions  of  these  ideas,  to  bring  them  with- 
in the  field  of  consciousness,  was,  in  his  judgment,  the  great 
business  of  philosophy. 

And  this  was  the  grand  aim  of  his  Dialectic — to  elicit,  to 
bring  to  light  the  truths  which  are  already  in  the  mind —  "a 
liaiEviTiQ,^^  a  kind  of  intellectual  midwifery'' — a  delivering  of  the 
mind  of  the  ideas  with  which  it  was  pregnant. 

It  is  thus,  at  first  sight,  obvious  that  it  was  a  higher  and 
more  comprehensive  science  than  the  art  of  deduction.     For  it 

'  As  in  the  "  Phasdo,"  §§  48-57 ;  "  Phaedrus,"  §§  52-64;  "  Republic,"  bk.  x. 
''"Theaetetus,"§§  17-20. 


356  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

was  directed  to  the  discovery  and  establishment  of  First  Princi- 
ples. Its  sole  object  was  the  discovery  of  truth.  His  dialectic 
was  an  analytical  and  inductive  method.  "  In  Dialectic  Sci- 
ence," says  Alcinous,  "  there  is  a  dividing  and  a  defining,  and 
an  analyzing,  and,  moreover,  that  which  is  inductive  and  syllo- 
gistic.'" Even  Bacon,  who  is  usually  styled  "  the  Father  of 
the  Inductive  method,"  and  who,  too  often,  speaks  dispara- 
gingly of  Plato,  is  constrained  to  admit  that  he  followed  the 
inductive  method.  "An  induction  such  as  will  be  of  advan- 
tage for  the  invention  and  demonstration  of  Arts  and  Sciences 
must  distinguish  the  essential  nature  of  things  (naturam)  by 
proper  rejections  and  exclusions,  and  then  after  as  many  of 
these  negatives  as  are  sufficient,  by  comprising,  above  all  (su- 
per), the  positives.  Up  to  this  time  this  has  not  been  done, 
nor  even  attempted,  except  by  Plato  alone,  who,  in  order  to  at- 
tain his  defi7iitio?is  and  ideas,  has  used,  to  a  certain  exte?it,  the 
method  of  Induction.  ^^"^ 

The  process  of  investigation  adopted  by  Plato  thus  corre- 
sponds with  the  inductive  method  of  modern  times,  with  this 
simple  difference,  that  Bacon  conducted  science  into  the  world 
of  matter,  whilst  Plato  directed  it  to  the  world  of  7nind.  The 
dialectic  of  Plato  aimed  at  the  discovery  of  the  "laws  of 
thought;"  the  modern  inductive  philosophy  aims  at  the  dis- 
covery of  the  "laws  of  nature."  The  latter  concerns  itself 
chiefly  with  the  inquiry  after  the  "causes"  of  material  phenom- 
ena ;  the  former  concerned  itself  with  the  inquiry  after  the 
"  first  principles  "  of  all  knowledge  and  of  all  existence.  Both 
processes  are,  therefore,  carried  on  by  if  iter  rogation.  The  anal- 
ysis which  seeks  for  a  law  of  nature  proceeds  by  the  interro- 
gation of  nature.  The  analysis  of  Plato  proceeds  by  the  in- 
terrogation of  mind,  in  order  to  discover  the  fundamental  ideas 
which  lie  at  the  basis  of  all  cognition,  which  determine  all  our 

^  "  Introduction  to  the  Doctrines  of  Plato,"  vol.  vi.  p.  249.  "  The  Pla- 
tonic Method  was  the  method  of  induction." — Cousin's  "  History  of  Philos- 
ophy," vol.  i.  p.  307. 

^  "  Novum  Organum,"  vol.  i.  p.  105. 


GREEK  PniLOSOPHT. 


357 


processes  of  thought,  and  which,  in  their  final  analysis,  reveal 
the  REAL  BEING,  which  is  the  ground  and  explanation  of  all 
existence. 

Now  the  fact  that  suoh  an  inquiry  has  originated  in  the 
human  mind,  and  that  it  can  not  rest  satisfied  without  some 
solution,  is  conclusive  evidence  that  the  mind  has  an  instinct- 
ive belief,  a  proleptic  anticipation,  that  such  knowledge  can  be 
attained.  There  must  unquestionably  be  some  mental  initia- 
tive which  is  the  motive  and  guide  to  all  philosophical  inquiry. 
We  must  have  some  well-grounded  conviction,  some  d  priori 
belief,  some  pre-cognition  "ad  intentionem  ejus  quod  quaeri- 
tur,"^  which  determines  the  direction  of  our  thinking.  The 
mind  does  not  go  to  work  aimlessly;  it  asks  a  specific  ques- 
tion; it  demands  the  ^^whence^^  and  the  '"'"why^^  of  that  which 
is.  Neither  does  it  go  to  work  unfurnished  with  any  guiding 
principles.  That  which  impels  the  mind  to  a  determinate  act 
of  thinking  is  the  possession  of  a  knowledge  which  is  different 
from,  and  independent  of,  the  process  of  thinking  itself.  "A 
rational  anticipation  is,  then,  the  ground  oi  XSx^  prudens  qucestio 
— the  forethought  query,  which,  in  fact,  is  the  prior  half  of  the 
knowledge  sought."^  If  the  mind  inquire  after  "  laws,"  and 
"causes,"  and  "reasons,"  and  "grounds," — the  first  principles 
of  all  knowledge  and  of  all  existence, — it  must  have  the  d priori 
ideas  of  "  law,"  and  "  cause,"  and  "  reason,"  and  "  being  in  se^^ 
which,  though  dimly  revealed  to  the  mind  previous  to  the  dis- 
cipline of  reflection,  are  yet  unconsciously  governing  its  spon- 
taneous modes  of  thought.  The  whole  process  of  induction 
has,  then,  some  rational  ground  to  proceed  upon — some  prin- 
ciples deeper  than  science,  and  more  certain  than  demonstra- 
tion, which  reason  contains  within  itself,  and  which  induction 
"draws  out"  into  clearer  light. 

Now  this  mental  initiative  of  every  process  of  induction  is 
the  intuitive  and  necessary  conviction  that  there  must  be  a  suffi- 
cient reason  why  every  thing  exists^  and  why  it  is  as  it  is,  and  not 
otherwise;^  or  in  other  words,  if  any  thing  begins  to  be,  some- 

^  Eacon.  "^  Coleridge,  vol.  ii.  p.  413.  ^  "  Phaedo,"  §  103. 


358  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

thing  else  must  be  supposed'  as  the  ground,  and  reason,  and 
cause,  and  law  of  its  existence.  This  ^^law  of  sufficient  (or  de- 
terminant)  reason^^"^  is  the  fundamental  principle  of  all  meta- 
physical inquiry.  It  is  contained,  at  least  in  a  negative  form, 
in  that  famous  maxim  of  ancient  philosophy,  "Z>^  nihilo  nihiV — 
"  'A^uvarov  yivEcrQai  ri  ek  fxrjdevdg  TTpovTrdp^ovrog."  "  It  is  impos- 
sible for  a  real  entity  to  be  made  or  generated  from  nothing 
pre-existing ;"  or  in  other  words,  "  nothing  can  be  made  or 
produced  without  an  efficient  cause.  "^  This  principle  is  also 
distinctly  announced  by  Plato :  "  Whatever  is  generated,  is 
necessarily  generated  from  a  certain  alriav^' — ground,  reason, 
or  cause;  "  for  it  is  wholly  impossible  that  any  thing  should  be 
generated  without  a  cause."* 

The  first  business  of  Plato's  dialectic  is  to  demonstrate  that 
the  ground  and  reason  of  all  existence  can  not  be  found  in  the 
mere  objects  of  sense,  nor  in  any  opinions  or  judgments  found- 
ed upon  sensation.  Principles  are  only  so  far  "first  princi- 
ples "  as  they  are  permanent  and  unchangeable,  depending  on 
neither  time,  nor  place,  nor  circumstances.  But  the  objects 
of  sense  are  in  ceaseless  flux  and  change ;  they  are  "  always 
becoming;''^  they  can  not  be  said  to  have  any  '"''real  being." 
They  are  not  to-day  what  they  were  yesterday,  and  they  will 
never  again  be  what  they  are  now ;  consequently  all  opinions 
founded  on  mere  phenomena  are  equally  fluctuating  and  uncer- 
tain. Setting  out,  therefore,  from  the  assumption  of  the  falla- 
ciousness  of  "opinion,"  it   examined  the  various  hypotheses 

^  Siippono,  to  place  under  as  a  support,  to  take  as  a  ground. 

'  This  generic  principle,  viewed  under  different  relations,  gives — 

1st.  The  principle  of  Substance — every  quality  supposes  a  subject  or  real 
being. 

2d.  The  principle  of  Causality — every  thing  which  begins  to  be  must  have 
a  cause. 

3d.  The  principle  ofLazv—tvtxy  phenomenon  must  obey  some  uniform  law. 

4th.  The  principle  of  Final  Cause — every  means  supposes  an  end,  every 
existence  has  a  purpose  or  reason  why. 

5th.  The  principle  of  Unity — all  plurality  supposes  a  unity  as  its  basis  and 
ground. 

^  Cudworth's  "  Intellectual  System,"  vol.  ii.  p.  161. 

*  *'  Timasus,"  ch.  ix. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  359 

which  had  been  bequeathed  by  previous  schools  of  philosophy, 
or  were  now  offered  by  contemporaneous  speculators,  and 
showed  they  were  utterly  inadequate  to  the  solution  of  the 
problem.  This  scrutiny  consisted  in  searching  for  the  ground 
of  "  contradiction '"  with  regard  to  each  opinion  founded  on 
sensation,  and  showing  that  opposite  views  were .  equally  ten- 
able. It  inquired  on  what  ground  these  opinions  were  main- 
tained, and  what  consequences  flowed  therefrom,  and  it  showed 
that  the  grounds  upon  which  "  opinion  "  was  founded,  and  the 
conclusions  which  were  drawn  from  it,  were  contradictory,  and 
consequently  untrue.^  "  They,"  the  Dialecticians,  "  examined 
the  opinions  of  men  as  if  they  were  error ;  and  bringing  them 
together  by  a  reasoning  process  to  the  same  point,  they  placed 
them  by  the  side  of  each  other ;  and  by  so  placing,  they  show- 
ed that  the  opinions  are  at  one  and  the  same  time  contrary  to  them- 
selves^ about  the  same  things^  with  reference  to  the  same  circum- 
stances^ and  according  to  the  same  premises  ^^  And  inasmuch  as 
the  same  attribute  can  not,  at  the  same  time,  be  affirmed  and 
denied  of  the  same  subject,*  therefore  a  thing  can  not  be  at 
once  "changeable"  and  "unchangeable,"  "movable"  and  "im- 
movable," "generated"  and  "eternal."^  The  objects  of  sense, 
however,  generalized  and  classified,  can  only  give  the  contin- 
gent, the  relative,  and  the  finite ;  therefore  the  permanent 
ground  and  sufficient  reason  of  all  phenomenal  existence  can 
not  be  found  in  opinions  and  judgments  founded  upon  sen- 
sation. 

The  dialectic  process  thus  consisted  almost  entirely  of  refu- 
tation^ or  what  both  he  and  Aristotle  denominated  elenchus 
(tXeyxog) — a  process  of  reasoning  by  which  the  contradictory 

^  "  The  Dialectitian  is  one  who  syllogistically  infers  the  contradictions 
implied  in  popular  opinions." — Aristotle,  "  Sophist,"  §§  i,  2. 

^  "  Republic,"  bk.  vi.  ch.  xiii. 

2  "  Sophist,"  §  33  ;  "  Republic,"  bk.  iv.  ch.  xii. 

*  See  the  "Phaedo,"  §  119,  and  "Republic,"  bk.  iv.  ch.  xiii.,  where  the 
Law  of  Non-contradiction  is  announced. 

"  "  Parmenides,"  §  3. 

'  "  Confutation  is  the  greatest  and  chiefest  of  purification." — "  Sophist," 
§34. 


360  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

of  a  given  proposition  is  inferred.  "  When  refutation  had  done 
its  utmost,  and  all  the  points  of  difficulty  and  objection  had 
been  fully  brought  out,  the  dialectic  method  had  accomplished 
its  purpose  ;  and  the  affirmation  which  remained,  after  this  dis- 
cussion, might  be  regarded  as  setting  forth  the  truth  of  the 
question  under  consideration ;'"  or  in  other  words,  when  a  sys- 
tem of  error  is  destroyed  by  refutation,  the  co7itradictory  opposite 
principle^  with  its  logical  developments,  must  be  accepted  as  an  es- 
tablished truth. 

By  the  application  of  this  method,  Plato  had  not  only  ex- 
posed the  insufficiency  and  self-contradiction  of  all  results  ob- 
tained by  a  mere  d  posteriori  generalization  of  the  simple  facts 
of  experience,  but  he  demonstrated,  as  a  consequence,  that  we 
are  in  possession  of  some  elements  of  knowledge  which  have 
not  been  derived  from  sensation ;  that  there  are,  in  all  minds, 
certain  notions,  principles,  or  ideas,  which  have  been  furnished 
by  a  higher  faculty  than  sense  j  and  that  these  notions,  princi- 
ples, or  ideas,  transcend  the  limits  of  experience,  and  reveal 
the  knowledge  of  real  being — ro  ovThio,  ov — Beitig  in  se. 

To  determine  what  these  principles  or  ideas  are,  Plato  now 
addresses  himself  to  the  analysis  of  thottght.  "  It  is  the  glory 
of  Plato  to  have  borne  the  light  of  analysis  into  the  most  ob- 
scure and  inmost  region  ;  he  searched  out  what,  in  this  totality 
which  forms  consciousness,  is  the  province  of  reason;  what 
comes  from  it,  and  not  from  the  imagination  and  the  senses — 
from  within,  and  not  from  without."^  Now  to  analyze  is  to  de- 
compose, that  is,  to  divide,  and  to  define,  in  order  to  see  better 
that  which  really  is.  The  chief  logical  instruments  of  the  dia- 
lectic method  are,  therefore.  Division  and  Definitio7i.  "The 
being  able  to  divide  according  to  genera,  and  not  to  consider 
the  same  species  as  different,  nor  a  different  as  the  same,"^  and 
"to  see  under  one  aspect,  and  bring  together  under  one  general 
idea,  many  things  scattered  in  various  places,  that,  by  defitiing 

'  Article  "  Plato,"  Encyclopaedia  Britannica. 

'  Cousin's  "Lectures  on  the  History  of  Philosophy,"  vol.  i.  p.  328. 

«"  Sophist,"  §83. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY,  36 1 


each,  a  person  may  make  it  clear  what  the  subject  is,"  is,  ac- 
cording to  Plato,  "dialectical."^ 

We  have  already  seen  that,  in  his  first  efforts  at  applying 
reflection  to  the  concrete  phenomena  of  consciousness,  Plato 
had  recognized  two  distinct  classes  of  cognitions,  marked  by 
characteristics  essentially  opposite; — one  oi '■^ sensible^''  objects 
having  a  definite  outline,  limit,  and  figure,  and  capable  of  being 
imaged  and  represented  to  the  mind  in  a  determinate  form — 
the  other  of  ^^  mtelligible  ^^  objects,  which  can  not  be  outlined 
or  represented  in  the  memory  or  the  imagination  by  any  figures 
or  images,  and  are,  therefore,  the  objects  of  purely  rational 
conception.  He  found,  also,  that  we  arrive  at  one  class  of  cog- 
nitions "mediately"  through  images  generated  in  the  vital  or- 
ganism, or  by  some  testimony,  definition,  or  explication  of 
others ;  whilst  we  arrive  at  the  other  class  "  immediately"  by 
simple  intuition,  or  rational  apperception.  The  mind  stands 
face  to  face  with  the  object,  and  gazes  directly  upon  it.  The 
reality  of  that  object  is  revealed  in  its  own  light,  and  we  find  it 
impossible  to  refuse  our  assent — that  is,  it  is  self-evident.  One 
class  consisted  of  contingent  ideas  —  that  is,  their  objects  are 
conceived  as  existing,  with  the  possibility,  without  any  contra- 
diction, of  conceiving  of  their  non-existence  ;  the  other  consisted 
of  necessary  ideas — their  objects  are  conceived  as  existing  with 
the  absolute  impossibility  of  conceiving  of  their  non-existence. 
Thus  we  can  conceive  of  this  book,  this  table,  this  earth,  as  not 
existing,  but  we  can  not  conceive  the  non-existence  of  space. 
We  can  conceive  of  succession  in  time  as  not  existing,  but  we 
can  not,  in  thought,  annihilate  duration.  We  can  imagine  this 
or  that  particular  thing  not  to  have  been,  but  we  can  not  con- 
ceive of  the  extinction  of  Being  in  itself  He  further  observed, 
that  one  class  of  our  cognitions  are  conditional  ideas  ;  the  ex- 
istence of  their  objects  is  conceived  only  on  the  supposition  of 
some  antecedent  existence,,  as  for  example,  the  idea  of  qualities, 
phenomena,  events ;  whilst  the  other  class  of  cognitions  are 
unconditional  and  absolute — we  can  conceive  of  their  objects  as 
*  "  Phaedrus,"  §§  109,  in. 


362  CHBISTIANITY  AND 

existing  independently  and  unconditionally — existing  whether 
any  thing  else  does  or  does  not  exist,  as  space,  duration,  the 
infinite,  Being  in  se.  And,  finally,  whilst  some  ideas  appear  in 
us  as  particular  and  individual,  determined  and  modified  by 
our  own  personality  and  liberty,  there  are  others  which  are,  in 
the  fullest  sense,  universal.  They  are  not  the  creations  of  our 
own  minds,  and  they  can  not  be  changed  by  our  own  volitions. 
They  depend  upon  neither  times,  nor  places,  nor  circumstances ; 
they  are  common  to  all  minds,  in  all  times,  and  in  all  places. 
These  ideas  are  the  witnesses  in  our  inmost  being  that  there 
is-  something  beyond  us,  and  above  us  ;  and  beyond  and  above 
all  the  contingent  and  fugitive  phenomena  around  us.  Beneath 
all  changes  there  is  a  permanent  being.  Beyond  all  finite  and 
conditional  existence  there  is  something  unconditional  and  abso- 
lute. Having  determined  that  there  are  truths  which  are  inde- 
pendent of  our  own  minds — truths  which  are  not  individual, 
but  universal — truths  which  would  be  truths  even  if  our  minds 
did  not  perceive  them,  we  are  led  onward  to  a  jz/^^rsensual 
and  ^2//^matural  ground,  on  which  they  rest. 

To  reach  this  objective  reality  on  which  the  ideas  of  reason 
repose,  is  the  grand  effort  of  Plato's  dialectic.  He  seeks,  by  a 
rigid  analysis,  clearly  to  separate,  and  accurately  to  defifie  the  d 
priori  conceptions  of  reason.  And  it  was  only  when  he  had 
eliminated  every  element  which  is  particular,  contingent,  and 
relative,  and  had  defined  the  results  in  precise  and  accurate 
language,  that  he  regarded  the  process  as  complete.  The 
ideas  which  are  self-evident,  universal,  and  necessary,  were  then 
clearly  disengaged,  and  raised  to  their  pure  and  absolute  form, 
"You  call  the  man  dialectical  who  requires  a  reason  of  the 
essence  or  being  of  each  thing.  As  the  dialectical  man  can 
define  the  essence  of  every  thing,  so  can  he  of  the  good.  He 
can  defifie  the  idea  of  the  good,  separating  it  from  all  others — 
follow  it  through  all  windings,  as  in  a  battle,  resolved  to  mark 
it,  not  according  to  opinion,  but  according  to  science."* 

Abstraction  is  thus  the  process,  the  instrument  of  the  Platon- 
*  "  Republic,"  bk.  vii.  ch.  xiv. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  363 

ic  dialectic.  It  is  important,  however,  that  we  should  distin- 
guish between  the  method  of  comparative  abstraction,  as  em- 
ployed in  physical  inquiry,  and  that  immediate  abstraction, 
which  is  the  special  instrument  of  philosophy.  The  former 
proceeds  by  comparison  and  generalization,  the  latter  by  sim- 
ple separation.  The  one  yields  a  contingent  general  principle 
as  the  result  of  the  comparison  of  a  number  of  individual  cases, 
the  other  gives  an  universal  and  necessary  principle  by  the 
analysis  of  a  single  concrete  fact.  As  an  illustration  we  may 
instance  "  the  principle  of  causality."  To  enable  us  to  affirm 
"  that  every  event  must  have  a  cause,"  we  do  not  need  to  com- 
pare and  generalize  a  great  number  of  events.  "  The  principle 
which  compels  us  to  pronounce  the  judgment  is  already  com- 
plete in  the  first  as  in  the  last  event ;  it  can  change  in  regard 
to  its  object,  it  can  not  change  in  itself;  it  neither  increases 
nor  decreases  with  the  greater  or  less  number  of  applications."^ 
In  the  presence  of  a  single  event,  the  universality  and  necessi- 
ty of  this  principle  of  causality  is  recognized  with  just  as  much 
clearness  and  certainty  as  in  the  presence  of  a  million  events, 
however  carefully  generalized. 

Abstraction,  then,  it  will  be  seen,  creates  nothing ;  neither 
does  it  add  any  new  element  to  the  store  of  actual  cognitions 
already  possessed  by  all  human  minds.  It  simply  brings  for- 
ward into  a  clearer  and  more  definite  recognition,  that  which 
necessarily  belongs  to  the  mind  as  part  of  its  latent  furniture, 
and  which,  as  a  law  of  thought,  has  always  unconsciously  gov- 
erned all  its  spontaneous  movements.  As  a  process  of  rational 
inquiry,  it  was  needful  to  bring  the  mind  into  intelligible  and 
conscious  communion  with  the  world  of  Ideas.  These  ideas 
are  partially  revealed  in  the  sensible  world,  all  things  being 
formed,  as  Plato  believed,  according  to  ideas  as  models  and 
exemplars,  of  which  sensible  objects  are  the  copies.  They  are 
more  fully  manifested  in  the  constitution  of  the  human  mind 
which,  by  virtue  of  its  kindred  nature  with  the  original  essence 
or  being,  must  know  them  intuitively  and  immediately.  And 
*  Cousin's  "  The  True,  the  Beautiful,  and  the  Good,"  pp.  57,  58. 


364  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

they  are  brought  out  fully  by  the  dialectic  process,  which  dis- 
engages them  from  all  that  is  individual  and  phenomenal,  and 
sets  them  forth  in  their  pure  and  absolute  form. 

But  whilst  Plato  has  certainly  exhibited  the  true  method  of 
investigation  by  which  the  ideas  of  reason  are  to  be  separated 
from  all  concrete  phenomena  and  set  clearly  before  the  mind, 
he  has  not  attempted  a  complete  enumeration  of  the  ideas  of 
reason ;  indeed,  such  an  enumeration  is  still  the  grand  desid- 
eratum of  philosophy.  We  can  not  fail,  however,  in  the  care- 
ful study  of  his  writings,  to  recognize  the  grand  Triad  of  Abso- 
lute Ideas — ideas  which  Cousin,  after  Plato,  has  so  fully  exhib- 
ited, viz.,  the  TruCy  the  Beautiful,  and  the  Good.  . 

PLATONIC    SCHEME   OF    IDEAS. 

I.  The  idea  ^Absolute  Truth  or  Reality  {to  aXridiq — to  ov) 
— the  ground  and  efficient  cause  of  all  existence,  and  by  par- 
ticipating in  which  all  phenomenal  existence  has  only  so  far  a 
reality,  sensible  things  being  merely  shadows  and  resemblances 
of  ideas.  This  idea  is  developed  in  the  human  intelligence  in 
its  relation  with  the  phenomenal  world ;  as, 

I..  The  idea  of  Substance  (ovcrla) — the  ground  of  all  phe- 
nomena, "the  being  or  essence  of  all  things,"  the  permanent 
reality. — "Timaeus,"  ch.  ix.  and  xii. ;  "Republic,"  bk.  vii.  ch. 
xiv.j  "Phaedo,"§§  63-67,  73. 

2.  The  idea  of  Cause  (ahia) — the  power  or  efficiency  by 
.  which  things  that  "  become,"  or  begin  to  be,  are  generated 

or  produced. — "Timaeus,"  ch.  ix. ;  "Sophist,"  §  109;  "Phi- 
lebus,"  §§  45,  46. 

3.  The  idea  ^Identity  (auro  to  'iaov) — that  which  "does 
not  change,"  "  is  always  the  same,  simple  and  uniform,  in- 
composite  and  indissoluble," — that  which  constitutes  per- 
sonality or  self-hood. — "Phaedo,"  §§  61-75  ;  "Timaeus,"  ch. 
ix. ;  "  Republic,"  bk.  ii.  ch.  xix.  and  xx. 

4.  The  idea  <?/"  Unity  {to  tv) — one  mind  or  intelligence 
pervading  the  universe,  the  comprehensive  conscious  thought 
or  plan  which  binds  all  parts  of  the  universe  in  one  great 


GEEEK  PHILOSOPHY.  365 

whole  (7-0  7ra»') — the  principle  of  order. — "  Tim^eus,"  ch.  xi. 
and  XV. ;  "  Republic,"  bk.  vi.  ch.  xiii. ;  "  Philebus,"  §§  50-51. 
5.  The  idea  of  the  Infinite  {to  aireipoy) — that  which  is  un- 
limited and  unconditioned,  "has  no  parts,  bounds,  no  be- 
ginning, nor  middle,  nor  end." — "  Parmenides,"  §§  22,  23. 

II.  The  idea  <?/"  Absolute  Beauty  (70  koKov) — the  formal 
cause  of  the  universe,  and  by  participation  in  which  all  created 
things  have  only  so  far  a  real  beauty. — "  Timaeus,"  ch.  xi. ; 
"Greater  Hippias,"  §§  17,  18 ;  "Republic,"  bk.  v.  ch.  22. 

This  idea  is  developed  in  the  human  intelligence  in  its  re- 
lation to  the  organic  world  ;  as, 

1.  The  idea  ^Proportion  or  Symmetry  (o-y/^/xErp/a) — the 
proper  relation  of  parts  to  an  organic  whole  resulting  in  a 
harmony  (Koafiog),  and  which  relation  admits  of  mathemat- 
ical expression. — "Timaeus,"  ch.  Ixix. ;  "Philebus,"  §  155 
("  Timaeus,"  ch.  xi.  and  xii.,  where  the  relation  of  numerical 
proportions  to  material  elements  is  expounded). 

2.  The  idea  of  Determinate  Form  (Trapa^ety/xa  apxervyrog) 
— the  eternal  models  or  archetypes  according  to  which  all 
things  are  framed,  and  which  admit  of  geometrical  represen- 
tation.— "  Timaeus,"  ch.  ix. ;  "  Phasdo,"  §112  ("  Timaeus,"  ch. 
xxviii.-xxxi.,  where  the  relation  of  geometrical  forms  to  ma- 
terial elements  is  exhibited). 

3.  The  idea  ^t/"  Rhythm  (pvdfxog) — measured  movement  in 
time  and  space,  resulting  in  melody  and  grace. — "  Repub- 
lic," bk.  iii.  ch.  xi.  and  xii.;  "Philebus,"  §  21. 

4.  The  idea  ^Fitness  or  Adaptation  {xpr](n\iov) — effect- 
iveness to  some  purpose  or  end. — "  Greater  Hippias,"  §  35. 

5.  The  idea  ^Perfection  (reXEiorrjg) — that  which  is  com- 
plete, "  a  structure  which  is  whole  and  finished — of  whole 
and  perfect  parts." — "  Timaeus,"  ch.  xi.,  xii.,  and  xliii. 

III.  The  idea  ^Absolute  Good  {to  ayaQov) — the  final  cause 
or  reasofi  of  all  existence,  the  sun  of  the  invisible  world,  that 
pours  upon  all  things  the  revealing  light  of  truth. 


366  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

The  first  Goocr  {summum  bonum)  is  God  the  highest,  and 
Mind  or  Intelligence  {vovq\  which  renders  man  capable  of 
knowing  and  resembling  God.  The  second  flows  from  the 
first,  and  are  virtues  of  mind.  They  are  good  by  a  participa- 
tion of  the  chief  good,  and  constitute  in  man  a  likeness  or  re- 
semblance to  God. — "  Phaedo,"  §§  i  lo-i  14 ;  "  Laws,"  bk.  i.  ch.  vi., 
bk.  iv.  ch.  viii. ;  "  Theaetetus,"  §§  84,  85  ;  "  Republic,"  bk.  vi.  ch. 
xix.,  bk.  vii.  ch.  iii.,  bk.  x.  ch.  xii.'^ 

This  idea  is  developed  in  the  human  intelligence  in  its  rela- 
tion to  the  world  of  moral  order ;  as, 

1.  The  idea  ^Wisdom  or  Prudence  {(f)p6pr](Tig) — thought- 
fulness,  rightness  of  intention,  following  the  guidance  of  rea- 
son, the  right  direction  of  the  energy  or  will. — "  Republic," 
bk.  iv.  ch.  vii.,  bk.  vi.  ch.  ii. 

2.  TAe  idea  <?/" Courage  or  Fortitude  {avl^la) — zeal,  en- 
ergy, firmness  in  the  maintenance  of  honor  and  right,  virtu- 
ous indignation  against  wrong. — "  Republic,"  bk.  iv.  ch.  viii.  j 
"Laches;"  "Meno,"§24. 

3.  The  idea  ^Self-control  or  Temperance  {(Tojcppoaifvrj) 
— sound-mindedness,  moderation,  dignity. — "  Republic,"  bk. 
iv.  ch.  ix. ;  "  Meno,"  §  24 ;  "  Phaedo,"  §  35. 

4.  The  idea  ^Justice  (diKaiocrurr)) — the  harmony  or  per- 
fect proportional  action  of  all  the  powers  of  the  soul. — "  Re- 
public," bk.  i.  ch.  vi.,  bk.  iv.  ch.  x.-xii.,  bk.  vi:  ch.  ii.  and  xvi. ; 
"  Philebus,"  §  155 ;  "  Phsedo,"  §  54 ;  "  Theaetetus,"  §§  84,  85. 

Plato's  idea  of  Justice  comprehends — 

(i.)  Equity  (ladriic)— the  rendering  to  every  man  his 
due. — "  Republic,"  bk.  i.  ch.  vi. 

*  "  Let  us  declare,  then,  on  what  account  the  framing  Artificer  settled  the 
formation  of  the  universe.  He  was  good  ;"  and  being  good,  "  /le  desired 
that  all  things  should  as  much  as  possible  resemble  himself ^ — "  Timasus,"  ch.  x. 

^  "At  the  utmost  bounds  of  the  intellectual  world  is  the  idea  of  the  Good, 
perceived  with  difficulty,  but  which,  once  seen,  makes  itself  known  as  the 
cause  of  all  that  is  beautiful  and  good ;  which  in  the  visible  world  produces 
light,  and  the  orb  that  gives  it ;  and  which  in  the  invisible  world  directly 
produces  Truth  and  Intelligence." — "  Republic,"  bk.  vii.  ch.  iii. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  367 

(2.)  Veracity  {aXr^deia) — the  utterance  of  what  is  true. 
— "  RepubHc,"  bk.  i.  ch.  v.,  bk.  ii.  ch.  xx.,  bk.  vi.  ch.  ii. 

(3.)  Faithfulness  (TricrTorrig) — the  strict  performance 
of  a  trust. — "  Republic,"  bk.  i.  ch.  v.,  bk.  vi.  ch.  ii. 

(4.)  Usefulness  {u)(f)iXiixoy)  —  the  answering  of  some 
valuable  end.  —  "Republic,"  bk.  ii.  ch.  xviii.,  bk.  iv.  ch. 
xviii. ;  "Meno,"  §  22. 

(5.)  Benevolence  (evpoia) — seeking  the  well-being  of 
others. — "  Republic,"  bk.  i.  ch.  xvii.,  bk.  ii.  ch.  xviii. 

(6.)  Holiness  (bawTrjg) — purity  of  mind,  piety. — "Pro- 
tagoras," §§  52-54 ;  "  Phaedo,"  §  32  ;  "  Theaetetus,"  §  84. 

The  final  effort  of  Plato's  Dialectic  was  to  ascend  from  these 
ideas  of  Absolute  Truth,  and  Absolute  Beauty,  and  Absolute 
Goodness  to  the  Absolute  Beings  in  whom  they  are  all  united, 
and  from  whom  they  all  proceed.  "  He  who  possesses  the  true 
love  of  science  is  naturally  carried  in  his  aspirations  to  the 
real  Being;  aind  his  love,  so  far  from  suffering  itself  to  be  re- 
tarded by  the  multitude  of  things  whose  reality  is  only  appar- 
ent, knows  no  repose  until  it  have  arrived  at  union  with  the 
essence  of  each  object,  by  the  part  of  the  soul  which  is  akin  to 
the  permanent  and  essential ;  so  that  this  divine  conjunction 
having  produced  intelligence  and  truth,  the  knowledge  of  being 
is  won."^ 

To  the  mind  of  Plato,  there  was  in  every  thing,  even  the 
smallest  and  most  insignificant  of  sensible  objects,  a  reality  just 
in  so  far  as  it  participates  in  some  archetypal  form  or  idea. 
These  archetypal  forms  or  ideas  are  the  '-'•  thoughts  of  God""^ — 
they  are  the  plan  according  to  which  he  framed  the  universe. 
"The  Creator  and  Father  of  the  universe  looked  to  an  eternal 
model. . .  .  Being  thus  generated,  the  universe  is  framed  ac- 
cording to  principles  that  can  be  comprehended  by  reason  and 
reflection."^  Plato,  also,  regarded  all  individual  conceptions 
of  the  mind  as  hypothetical  notions  which  have  in  them  an  d 

^  "  Republic,"  bk.  vi.  ch.  v.  ^  Alcinous,  "  Doctrines  of  Plato,"  p.  262. 

'  "  Timaeus,"  ch.  ix. 


368  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

priori  element — an  idea  which  is  unchangeable,  universal,  and 
necessary.  These  unchangeable,  universal,  and  necessary  ideas 
are  copies  of  the  Divine  Ideas,  which  are,  for  man,  the  primor- 
dial laws  of  all  cognition,  and  all  reasoning.  They  are  pos- 
sessed by  the  soul  "in  virtue  of  its  kindred  nature  to  that 
which  is  permanent,  unchangeable,  and  eternal."  He  also  be- 
lieved that  every  archetypal  form,  and  every  d,  priori  idea,  has 
its  ground  and  root  in  a  higher  idea,  which  is  unhypothetical 
and  absolute — an  idea  which  needs  no  other  supposition  for 
its  explanation,  and  which  is,  itself,  needful  to  the  explanation 
of  all  existence — even  the  idea  of  an  absolute  and  perfect  Bei?ig, 
in  whose  mind  the  ideas  of  absolute  truth,  and  beauty,  and 
goodness  inhere,  and  in  whose  eternity  they  can  only  be  re- 
garded as  eternal.^  Thus  do  the  "ideas  of  reason"  not  only 
cast  a  bridge  across  the  abyss  that  separates  the  sensible  and 
the  ideal  world,  but  they  also  carry  us  beyond  the  limits  of  our 
personal  consciousness,  and  discover  to  us  a  realm  of  real  Be- 
ing, which  is  the  foundation,  and  cause,  and  explanation  of  the 
phenomenal  world  that  appears  around  us  and  within  us. 

This  passage  from  psychology  to  ontology  is  not  achieved 
per  saltu7n,  or  effected  by  any  arbitrary  or  unwarrantable  as- 
sumption. There  are  principles  revealed  in  the  centre  of  our 
consciousness,  whose  regular  development  carry  us  beyond  the 
limits  of  consciousness,  and  attain  to  the  knowledge  of  actual 
being.  The  absolute  principles  of  causality  and  substance^  of 
intentionality  and  unity ^  unquestionably  give  us  the  absolute  Be- 
ing. Indeed  the  absolute  truth  that  every  idea  supposes  a  being 
in  which  it  resides^  and  which  is  but  another  form  of  the  law  or 
principle  of  substance,  viz.,  that  every  quality  supposes  a  sub- 
stance or  .being  in  which  it  inheres^  is  adequate  to  carry  us  from 
Idea  to  Being.  "  There  is  not  a  single  cognition  which  does 
not  suggest  to  us  the  notion  of  existence,  and  there  is  not  an 
unconditional  and  absolute  truth  which  does  not  necessarily 
imply  an  absolute  and  unconditional  Being."* 

^  Maurice's  "Ancient  Philosophy,"  p.  149. 
^  Cousin's  "Elements  of  Psychology,"  p.  506. 


GREEK  rniLOSOPHT.  369 

This,  then,  is  the  dialectic  of  Plato.  Instead  of  losing  him- 
self amid  the  endless  variety  of  particular  phenomena,  he  would 
search  for  principles  and  laws,  and  from  thence  ascend  to  the 
great  Legislator,  the  First  Principle  of  all  Principles.  Instead 
of  stopping  at  the  relations  of  sensible  objects  to  the  general 
ideas  with  which  they  are  commingled,  he  will  pass  to  their 
eternal  Paradigms — from  the  just  thing  to  the  idea  of  absolute 
justice,  from  the  particular- good  to  the  absolute  good,  from 
beautiful  things  to  the  absolute  beauty,  and  thence  to  the  ulti- 
mate reality — the  absolicte  Being.  By  the  realization  of  the 
lower  idea,  embodied  in  the  forms  of  the  visible  universe  and 
in  the  necessary  laws  of  thought,  he  sought  to  rise  to  the  higher 
idea,  in  its  pure  and  abstract  form — the  Supreme  Idea,  contain- 
ing in  itself  all  other  ideas — the  One  Intelligence  which  unites 
the  universe  in  a  harmonious  whole.     "  The  Dialectic  faculty 

proceeds  from  hypothesis  to  an  unhypothetical  principle 

It  uses  hypotheses  as  steps,  and  starting-points,  in  order  to 
proceed  from  thence  to  the  absolute.  The  Intuitive  Reason 
takes  hold  of  the  First  Principle  of  the  Universe,  and  avails  it- 
self of  all  the  connections  and  relations  of  that  principle.  It 
ascends  from  idea  to  idea,  until  it  has  reached  the  Supreme 
Idea" — the  Absolute  Good — that  is,  God.^ 

We  are  thus  brought,  in  the  course  of  our  examination  of  the 
Platonic  method,  to  the  results  obtained  by  this  method — or,  in 
other  words,  to 

III.   THE   PLATONIC   ONTOLOGY. 

The  grand  object  of  all  philosophic  inquiry  in  ancient 
Greece  was  to  attain  to  the  knowledge  of  real  Being — that  Be- 
ing which  is  permanent,  unchangeable,  and  eternal.  It  had 
proceeded  on  the  intuitive  conviction,  that  beneath  all  the  end- 
less diversity  of  the  universe  there  must  be  a  principle  of  unity 
— below  all  fleeting  appearances  there  must  be  a  permanent 
substance — beyond  all  this  everlasting  flow  and  change,  this 
beginning  and  end  of  finite  existence,  there  must  be  an  eternal 
^  "  Republic,"  bk.  vi.  ch.  xx.  and  xxi. 
24 


370  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

Being,  which  is  the  cause^  and  which  contains,  in  itself,  the 
7'eason  of  the  order,  and  harmony,  and  beauty,  and  excellency 
which  pervades  the  universe.  And  it  had  perpetually  asked 
what  is  this  permanent,  unchangeable,  and  eternal  substance 
or  being  ? 

Plato  had  assiduously  labored  at  the  solution  of  this  prob- 
lem. The  object  of  his  dialectic  was  "  to  lead  upward  the 
soul  to  the  knowledge  of  real  being,"*  and  the  conclusions  to 
which  he  attained  may  be  summed  up  as  follows : 

I  St.  Beneath  all  ?>^i!iSiBi.^  phenomena  there  is  an  unchangeable 
subject-matter,  the  mysterious  substratum  of  the  world  of  sense, 
which  he  calls  the  receptacle  {v-Kocoyji)  the  nurse  (ndyjvri)  of  all  that 
is  produced^ 

It  is  this  "  substratum  or  physical  groundwork  "  which  gives 
a  reality  and  definiteness  to  the  evanescent  phantoms  of  sense, 
for,  in  their  ceaseless  change,  they  can  not  justify  any  title  what- 
ever. It  alone  can  be  styled  "  this  "  or  "  that "  {toIe  or  romo)  j 
they  rise  no  higher  than  '•^ of  such  kind"  or  ^^  of  what  kind  or 
quality"  (toiovtov  or  birotovovv  ri).^  It  is  not  earth,  or  air,  or  fire, 
or  water,  but  "  an  invisible  species  and  formless  universal  re- 
ceiver, which,  in  the  most  obscure  way,  receives  the  immanence 
of  the  intelligible."*  And  in  relation  to  the  other  two  principles 
(/.  e.,  ideas  and  objects  of  sense),  "it  is  the  mother"  to  the  fa- 
ther and  the  offspring.^  But  perhaps  the  most  remarkable  pas- 
sage is  that  in  which  he  seems  to  identify  it  with  pure  space, 
which,  "  itself  imperishable,  furnishes  a  seat  (t^pav)  to  all  that  is 
produced,  not  apprehensible  by  direct  perception,  but  caught 
by  a  certain  spurious  reasoning,  scarcely  admissible,  but  which 
we  see  as  in  a  dream ;  gaining  it  by  that  judgment  which  pro- 
nounces it  necessary  that  all  which  is,  be  somewhere,  and  occu- 
py a  certain  space  "^  This,  it  will  be  seen,  approaches  the  Car- 
tesian doctrine,  which  resolves  matter  into  simple  exte?ision."'' 

^  "  Republic,"  bk.  vii.  ch.  xii.  and  xiii.  ^  "  Timaeus,"  ch.  xxii. 

^  '*  Timaeus,"  ch.  xxiii,  •*  Ibid.,  ch.  xxiv. 

*  Ibid.,  ch.  xxiv.  *  Ibid.,  ch.  xxvi. 

^  Butler's  **  Lectures  on  Ancient  Philosophy,"  vol.  ii.  p.  171. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


3.71 


It  should,  however,  be  distinctly  noted  that  Plato  does  not 
use  the  word  v\r\ — matter.  This  term  is  first  employed  by 
Aristotle  to  express  "the  substance  which  is  the  subject  of  all 
changes."^  The  subject  or  substratum  of  which  Plato  speaks, 
would  seem  to  be  rather  a  logical  than  a  material  entity.  It 
is  the  condition  or  supposition  necessary  for  the  production  of  a 
world  of  phenomena.  It  is  thus  the  transition-element  between 
the  real  and  the  apparent,  the  eternal  and  the  contingent ;  and^ 
lying  thus  on  the  border  of  both  territories,  we  must  not  be  sur- 
prised that  it  can  hardly  be  characterized  by  any  definite  at- 
tribute.'"^ Still,  this  unknown  recipient  of  forms  or  ideas  has 
2i  reality;  it  has  "an  abiding  nature,"  "a  constancy  of  exist- 
ence ;"  and  we  are  forbidden  to  call  it  by  any  name  denoting 
quality,  but  permitted  to  style  it  "//«>"  and  "//^<2/"  {toIe  koX 
Tovro).^  Beneath  the  perpetual  changes  of  sensible  phenomena 
there  is,  then,  an  unchangeable  subject,  which  yet  is  neither 
the  Deity,  nor  ideas,  nor  the  soul  of  man,  which  exists  as  the 
means  and  occasion  of  the  manifestation  of  Divine  Intelligence 
in  the  organization  of  the  world.* 

There  has  been  much  discussion  as  to  whether  Plato  held 
that  this  "  J?eeeptacle "  and  ^'JVurse^'  of  forms  and  ideas  was 
eternal,  or  generated  in  time.  Perhaps  no  one  has  more  care- 
fully studied  the  writings  of  Plato  than  William  Archer  Butler, 
and  his  conclusions  in  regard  to  this  subject  are  presented  in 
the  following  words :  "  As,  on  the  one  hand,  he  maintained  a 
strict  system  of  dualism,  and  avoided,  without  a  single  devia- 
tion, that  seduction  of  pantheism  to  which  so  many  abstract 
speculators  of  his  own  school  have  fallen  victims ;  so,  on  the 
other  hand,  it  appears  to  me  that  he  did  not  scruple  to  place 
this  principle,  the  opposite  of  the  Divine  intelligence,  in  a 
sphere  independent  of  temporal  origination. . . .  But  we  can 
scarcely  enter  into  his  views,  unless  we  ascertain  his  notions 
of  the  nature  of  Time  itself.    This  was  considered  to  have  been 

*  "  Metaphysics,"  bk.  vii.  ch.  i. 

^  Butler's  "Lectures  on  Ancient  Philosophy,"  vol.  ii.  p.  178. 

^  "  Timasus,"  ch.  xxiii.  *  Ibid.,  ch.  xliii. 


312 


CHRISTIANITY  AXD 


created  with  the  rest  of  the  sensible  world,  to  finish  with  it,  if 
it  ever  finished — to  be  altogether  related  to  this  phenomenal 
scene. ^  *  The  generating  Father  determined  to  create  a  mov- 
ing image  of  eternity  (at'wvog) ;  and  in  disposing  the  heavens, 
he  framed  of  this  eternity,  reposing  in  its  own  unchangeable 
unity,  an  eternal  image,  moving  according  to  numerical  succes- 
sion, which  he  called  Time.  With  the  world  arose  days,  nights, 
months,  years,  which  all  had  no  previous  existence.  The  past 
and  future  are  but  forms  of  time,  which  we  most  erroneously 
transfer  to  the  eternal  substance  {aihov  ohtriav) ;  we  say  it  was, 
and  is,  and  will  be,  whereas  we  can  only  fitly  say  it  is.  Past 
and  future  are  appropriate  to  the  successive  nature  of  generated 
beings,  for  they  bespeak  motion ;  but  the  Being  eternally  and 
immovably  the  same  is  subject  neither  to  youth  nor  age,  nor 
to  any  accident  of  time  ;  it  neither  was,  nor  hath  been,  nor  will 
be,  which  are  the  attributes  of  fleeting  sense — the  circum- 
stances of  time,  imitating  eternity  in  the  shape  of  number  and 
motion.  Nor  can  any  thing  be  more  inaccurate  than  to  apply 
the  term  real  being  to  past,  or  present,  or  future,  or  even  to 
non-existence.  Of  this,  however,  we  can  not  now  speak  fully. 
Time,  then,  was  formed  with  the  heavens,  that,  together  created, 
they  may  together  end,  if  indeed  an  end  be  in  the  purpose  of  the 
Creator;  and  it  is  designed  as  closely  as  possible  to  resemble 
the  eternal  nature,  its  exemplar.  The  model  exists  through  all 
eternity ;  the  world  has  been,  is,  and  will  be  through  all  time.'"^ 
....  In  this  ineffable  eternity  Plato  places  the  Supreme  Being, 
and  the  archetypal  id^as  of  which  the  sensible  world  of  time 
partakes.  Whether  he  also  includes  under  the  same  mode  of 
existence  the  subject-matter  of  the  sensible  world,  it  is  not  easy 
to  pronounce ;  and  it  appears  to  me  evident  that  he  did  not 
himself  undertake  to  speak  with  assurance  on  this  obscure 
problem."^  The  creation  of  matter  "out  of  nothing"  is  an 
idea  which,  in  all  probability,  did  not  occur  to  the  mind  of 
Plato.     But  that  he  regarded  it  as,  in  some  sense,  a  dependent 

^  See  ante,  note  4,  p.  349.  "  "  Timaeus,"  ch.  xiv. 

'  Butler's  "Lectures  on  Ancient  Philosophy,"  vol.  ii.  p.  1 71-175. 


GUEEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


373 


existence — as  existing,  like  time,  by  "  the  purpose  or  will  of  the 
Creator" — perhaps  as  an  eternal  "generation"  from  the  "eter- 
nal substance,"  is  also  highly  probable ;  for  in  the  last  analysis 
he  evidently  desires  to  embrace  all  things  in  some  ultimate 
unity — a  tendency  which  it  seems  impossible  for  human  reason 
to  avoid. 

2d.  Beneath  all  mental  phenomena  there  is  a  permanent  subject 
or  substratum  which  he  designates  the  identical  {to  ahro) — the 
rational  element  of  the  soul — "  the  principle  of  self-activity^^''  or  self- 
determination.  ^ 

There  are  three  principles  into  which  Plato  analyzes  the 
soul — the  principle  of  the  Identical,  the  Diverse,  and  the  Inter- 
mediate Essence^  The  first  is  indivisible  and  eternal,  always 
existing  in  sameness,  the  very  substance  of  Intelligence  itself,  and 
of  the  same  nature  with  the  Divine.^  The  second  is  divisible 
and  corporeal,  answering  to  our  notion  of  the  passive  sensibili- 
ties, and  placing  the  soul  in  relation  with  the  visible  world. 
The  third  is  an  intermediate  essence,  partaking  of  the  natures 
of  both,  and  constituting  a  medium  between  the  eternal  and 
the  mutable — the  conscious  energy  of  the  soul  developed  in  the 
contingent  world  of  time.  Thus  the  soul  is,  on  one  side,  linked 
to  the  unchangeable  and  the  eternal,  being  formed  of  that  in- 
effable element  which  constitutes  the  real  or  immutable  Being, 
and  on  the  other  side,  linked  to  the  sensible  and  the  contin- 
gent, being  formed  of  that  element  which  is  purely  relative  and 
contingent.  This  last  element  of  the  soul  is  regarded  by  Plato 
as  "mortal"  and  "corruptible,"  the  former  element  as  "im- 
mortal "  and  "  indestructible,"  having  its  foundations  laid  in 
eternity. 

This  doctrine  of  the  eternity  of  the  free  and  rational  element 
of  the  soul  must,  of  course,  appear  strange  and  even  repulsive 
to  those  who  are  unacquainted  with  the  Platonic  notion  of 
eternity  as  a  fixed  state  out  of  time,  which  has  no  past,  present, 

'  "Laws,"  bk.  x.  ch.  vi.  and  vii. ;  "  Phaedrus,"  §  51 ;  *^o.QXn  K-tvijata^.'' 
^  "  Timaeus,"  ch.  xii. ;  Tavrdv,  ddrepov,  and  ovoia  or  to  ovfifuaydfzevov. 
^  "  Laws,"  bk.  v.  ch.  i. 


374  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

or  future,  and  is  simply  that  which  "  always  is  " — an  everlasting 
tiow.  The  soul,  in  its  elements  of  rationality  and  freedom,  has 
existed  anterior  to  time,  because  it  now  exists  in  eternity/  In 
its  actual  manifestations  and  personal  history  it  is  to  be  con- 
templated as  a  "generated  being,"  having  a  commencement  in 
time. 

Now,  that  the  human  soul,  like  the  uncreated  Deity,  has  al- 
ways had  a  distinct,  conscious,  personal,  independent  being, 
does  not  appear  to  be  the  doctrine  of  Plato.  He  teaches,  most 
distinctly,  that  the  "  divine,"  the  immortal  part,  was  created,  or 
rather  "generated,"  in  eternity.  "The  Deity  hims^M formed 
the  divine,  and  he  delivered  over  to  his  celestial  offspring  [the 
subordinate  and  generated  gods]  the  task  oi forming  the  mortal. 
These  subordinate  deities,  copying  the  example  of  their  par- 
ent, and  receiving  from  his  hands  the  immortal  principle  of  the 
human  soul,  fashioned  subsequently  to  this  the  mortal  body, 
which  they  consigned  to  the  soul  as  a  vehicle,  and  in  which 
they  placed  another  kind  of  soul,  mortal,  the  seat  of  violent 
and  fatal  affections."'^  He  also  regarded  the  soul  as  having  a 
derived  and  dependent  existence.  He  draws  a  marked  dis- 
tinction between  the  divine  and  human  forms  of  the  "  self-mov- 
ing principle,"  and  makes  its  continuance  dependent  upon  the 
will  and  wisdom  of  the  Almighty  Disposer  and  Parent,  of 
whom  it  is  "the  first-born  offspring."^ 

That  portion  of  the  soul  which  Plato  regarded  as  "immor- 
tal" and  "to  be  entitled  divine,"  is  thus  the  ^'■offspring  of  God'' 
— a  ray  of  the  Divinity  "  generated  "  by,  or  emanating  from,  the 
Deity.  He  seems  to  have  conceived  it  as  co-eternal  with  its 
ideal  objects,  in  some  mysterious  ultimate  unity.  "The  true 
foundation  of  the  Platonic  theory  of  the  constitution  of  the  soul 
is  this  fundamental  principle  of  his  philosophy — the  oneness  of 
truth  and  knowledge.'^     This  led  him  naturally  to  derive  the  ra- 

^  See  ante,  note  4,  p.  349,  as  to  the  Platonic  notions  of  "  Time "  and 
"  Eternity." 

^  "  Timaeus,"  ch.  xliv. 

^  See  the  elaborate  exposition  in  "  Laws,"  bk,  x.  ch.  xii.  and  xiii. 

*  See  Grant's  "Aristotle,"  vol.  i.  pp.  150,  151. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


375 


tional  element  of  the  soul  (that  element  that  knows,  that  pos- 
sesses the  power  of  vorjtng)  from  the  rea/  element  in  things  (the 
element  that  is — the  voov^tvov) ;  and  in  the  original,  the  final, 
and,  though  imperfectly,  the  present  state  of  that  rational  ele- 
ment, he,  doubtless,  conceived  it  united  with  its  object  in  an 
eternal  conjunction,  or  even  identity.  But  though  intelligence 
and  its  correlative  intelligibles  were  and  are  thus  combined, 
the  soul  is  more  than  pure  intelligence ;  it  possesses  an  element 
of  personality  and  consciousness  distinct  to  each  individual,  of 
which  we  have  no  reason  to  suppose,  from  any  thing  his  writ- 
ings contain,  Plato  ever  meant  to  deprive  it."^  On  the  contrary, 
he  not  only  regarded  it  as  having  now,  under  temporal  condi- 
tions, a  distinct  personal  existence,  but  he  also  claimed  for  it  a 
conscious,  personal  existence  after  death.  He  is  most  earnest, 
and  unequivocal,  and  consistent  in  his  assertion  of  the  doctrine 
of  the  immortality  of  the  soul.  The  arguments  which  human 
reason  can  supply  are  exhibited  with  peculiar  force  and  beauty 
in  the  "  Phaedo,"  the  "  Phaedrus,"  and  the  tenth  book  of  the 
"Republic."  The  most  important  of  these  arguments  may  be 
presented  in  a  few  words. 

1.  The  soul  is  immortal,  because  it  is  ificorporeal.  There  are 
two  kinds  of  existences,  one  compounded,  the  other  simple ; 
the  former  subject  to  change,  the  latter  unchangeable ;  one 
perceptible  to  sense,  the  other  comprehended  by  mind  alone. 
The  one  is  visible,  the  other  is  invisible.  When  the  soul  em- 
ploys the  bodily  senses,  it  wanders  and  is  confused ;  but  when 
it  abstracts  itself  from  the  body,  it  attains  to  knowledge  which 
is  stable,  unchangeable,  and  immortal.  The  soul,  therefore, 
being  uncompounded,  incorporeal,  invisible,  must  be  indissolu- 
ble— that  is  to  say,  immortal.^ 

2.  The  soul  is  immortal,  because  it  has  an  independent  power 
of  self-motion — that  is,  it  has  self-activity  and  self-determination. 
No  arrangement  of  matter,  no  configuration  of  body,  can  be 
conceived  as  the  originator  of  free  and  voluntary  movement. 

^  Butler's  "  Lectures  on  Ancient  Philosophy,"  vol.  ii.  p.  209,  note. 
""  "  Phsdo,"  §§  61-75. 


376  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

Now  that  which  can  not  move  itself,  but  derives  its  motion 
from  something  else,  may  cease  to  move,  and  perish.  "But 
that  which  is  self-moved,  never  ceases  to  be  active,  and  is  also 
the  cause  of  motion  to  all  other  things  that  are  moved."  And 
"whatever  is  continually  active  is  immortal."  This  "self-ac- 
tivity is,"  says  Plato,  "  the  very  essence  and  true  notion  of  the 
soul."*  Being  thus  essentially  causative^  it  therefore  partakes 
of  the  nature  of  a  "  principle,"  and  it  is  the  nature  of  a  principle 
to  exclude  its  contrary.  That  which  is  essentially  self-active 
can  never  cease  to  be  active  ;  that  which  is  the  cause  of  motion 
and  of  change,  can  not  be  extinguished  by  the  change  called 
death.^ 

3.  The  soul  is  immortal^  because  it  possesses  universal^  neces- 
sary^ and  absolute  ideas  .,^\v\q\\  transcend  all  material  conditions, 
and  bespeak  an  origin  immeasurably  above  the  body.  No  mod- 
ifications of  matter,  however  refined,  however  elaborated,  can 
give  the  Absolute,  the  Necessary,  the  Eternal.  But  the  soul  has 
the  ideas  of  absolute  beauty,  goodness,  perfection,  identity,  and 
duration,  and  it  possesses  these  ideas  in  virtue  of  its  having  a 
nature  which  is  one,  simple,  identical,  and  in  some  sense,  eter- 
nal.^ If  the  soul  can  conceive  an  immortality,  it  can  not  be 
less  than  immortal.  If,  by  its  very  nature,  "  it  has  hopes  that 
will  not  be  bounded  by  the  grave,  and  desires  and  longings 
that  grasp  eternity,"  its  nature  and  its  destiny  must  correspond. 

In  the  concluding  sections  of  the  "Phaedo"  he  urges  the 
doctrine  with  earnestness  and  feeling  as  the  grand  motive  to  a 
virtuous  life,  for  "the  reward  is  noble  and  the  hope  is  great."* 
And  in  the  "  Laws  "  he  insists  upon  the  doctrine  of  a  future 
state,  in  which  men  are  to  be  rewarded  or  punished  as  the 
most  conclusive  evidence  that  we  are  under  the  moral  govern- 
ment of  God.* 

^  "  Phaedrus,"  §§  5 1-53.  »  "  Phaedo,"  §§  1 12-128. 

"  Ibid.,  §§  48-57,  I  lo-i  15.  <  Ibid.,  §§  129-145. 

'  The  doctrine  of  Metempsychosis,  or  transmigration  xai  souls,  can  scarce- 
ly be  regarded  as  part  of  the  philosophic  system  of  Plato.  He  seems  to 
have  accepted  it  as  a  venerable  tradition,  coming  within  the  range  of  proba- 
bility, rather  than  as  a  philosophic  truth,  and  it  is  always  presented  by  him 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  377 

4.  Beyond  all  finite  existences  and  secondary  causes^  all  laws^ 
ideas,  and  principles,  there  is  an  intelligence  or  mind,  the  First 
Principle  of  all  Principles,  the  Supreme  Idea  on  which  all  other 
ideas  are  grounded ;  the  Monarch  and  Lawgiver  of  the  universe, 
the  ultimate  Substance  from  which  all  other  things  derive  their  be- 
ing and  essence,  the  First  and  efficient  Cause  of  all  the  order,  and 
harmony,  and  beauty,  and  excellency,  and  goodness,  which  pervades 
the  universe,  who  is  called  by  way  of  pre-eminence  and  excellence  the 
Supreme  Good,  the  God  (6  0€oc),  "  the  God  over  all,^^  (6  itu  irdaL 
deog). 

This  Supreme  Mind,^  Plato  taught,  is  incorporeal,'^  unchange- 
able,^ infinite,*  absolutely  perfect,^  essentially  good,"  unorigi- 
nated,^  and  eternal.*  He  is  "  the  Father,  and  Architect,  and 
Maker  of  the  Universe,"^  "  the  efficient  Cause  of  all  things,"^" 
"  the  Monarch  and  Ruler  of  the  world,'"*  "the  sovereign  Mind 
that  orders  all  things,  and  pervades  all  things,""*  "  the  sole 

in  a  highly  mythical  dress.  Now  of  these  mythical  representations  he  re- 
marks in  the  "  Phasdo  "  (§  145)  that  "  no  man  in  his  senses  would  dream  of 
insisting  that  they  correspond  to  the  reality,  but  that,  the  soul  having  been 
shown  to  he  immortal,  this,  or  something  like  this,  is  true  of  individual  souls 
or  their  habitations."  If,  as  in  the  opinions  of  the  ablest  critics,  "  the  Laws  " 
is  to  be  placed  amongst  the  last  and  maturest  of  Plato's  writings,  the  evi- 
dence is  conclusive  that  whatever  may  have  been  his  earlier  opinions,  he  did 
not  entertain  the  doctrine  of  **  Metempsychosis  "  in  his  riper  years.  "  But 
when,  on  the  one  hand,  the  soul  shall  remain  having  an  intercourse  with  di- 
vine virtue',  it  becomes  divine  pre-eminently  ;  and  pre-eminently,  after  hav- 
ing been  conveyed  to  2l  place  entirely  holy,  it  is  changed  for  the  better  ;  but 
when  it  acts  in  a  contrary  manner,  it  has,  under  contrary  circumstances, 
placed  its  existence  in  some  unholy  spot. 

"  '  This  is  the  judgment  of  the  gods,  who  hold  Olympus.' 
"  O  thou  young  man,"  [know]  "  that  the  person  who   has  become  more 
wicked,  departs  to  the  more  wicked  souls ;  but  he  who  has  become  better,  to 
the  better  both  in  life  and  in  all  deaths,  to  do  and  suffer  what  is  fitting  for 
the  like." — "  Laws,"  bk.  x.  ch.  xii.  and  xiii. 

^  "  Phaedo,"  §§  105-107.         ^  Diogenes  Laertius,  "  Lives,"  bk.  iii,  ch.  77. 

'  "  Republic,"  bk.  ii.  ch.  xix. ;  "  Timaeus,"  ch.  ix. 

*  "  Apeleius,"  bk.  i.  ch.  v.  *  "  Republic,"  bk.  ii.  ch.  xx. 
'  "  Timseus,"  ch.  x. ;  "  Republic,"  bk.  ii.  ch.  xviii. 

'  "  Timaeus,"  ch.  ix.-x.  "  Ibid.,  ch.  xii. 

•  Ibid.,  ch.  ix.  "  "  Phaedo,"  §  105. 

"  "  Laws,"  bk.  x.  ch.  xii. ;  "  Republic,"  bk.  vii.  ch.  iii. ;  "  Philebus,"  §  50. 
""Philebus,"  §  51. 


378  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

Principle  of  all  things,'"  and  "the  Measure  of  all  things,"' 
He  is  "  the  Beginning  of  all  truth,"^  "  the  Fountain  of  all  law 
and  justice,"*  "the  Source  of  all  order  and  beauty,"^  "the 
Cause  of  all  good ;""  in  short,  "  he  is  the  Beginning,  the  Middle, 
and  End  of  all  things/" 

Beyond  the  sensible  world,  Plato  conceived  another  world 
of  intelligibles  or  ideas.  These  ideas  are  not,  however,  distinct 
and  independent  existences.  "What  general  notions  are  to 
our  own  minds,  ideas  are  to  the  Supreme  Reason  {vovq  fjatrCkevQ) ; 
they  are  the  eternal  thoughts  of  the  Divine  Intellect."^  Ideas 
are  not  substances,  they  are  qualities,  and  there  must,  there- 
fore, be  some  ultimate  substance  or  being  to  whom,  as  attri- 
butes, they  belong.  "It  must  not  be  beUeved,  as  has  been 
taught,  that  Plato  gave  to  ideas  a  substantial  existence.  When 
they  are  not  objects  of  pure  conception  for  human  reason,  they 
are  attributes  of  the  Divine  Reason.  It  is  there  they  substan- 
tially exist."'  These  eternal  laws  and  reasons  of  things  indi- 
cate to  us  the  character  of  that  Supreme  Essence  of  essences, 
the  Being  of  beings.  He  is  not  the  simple  aggregate  of  all 
laws,  but  he  is  the  Author,  and  Sustainer,  and  Substance  of  all 
laws.  At  the  utmost  summit  of  the  intellectual  world  of  Ideas 
blazes,  with  an  eternal  splendor,  the  idea  of  the  Supreme  Good 
from  which  all  others  emanate.^"  This  Supreme  Good  is  "far 
beyond  all  existence  in  dignity  and  power,  and  it  is  that  from 
which  all  things  else  derive  their  being  and  essence.""  The 
Supreme  Good  is  not  the  truth,  nor  the  intelligence  ;  "  it  is  the 
Father  of  it."     In  the  same  manner  as  the  sun,  which  is  the 

*  "  Republic,"  bk.  vi.  ch.  xix.  "^  "  Laws,"  bk.  iv.  ch.  viii. 
^  "  Republic,"  bk.  ii.  ch,  xxi.  *  "  Laws,"  bk.  iv.  ch.  vii. 
^  "  Philebus,"  §  51 ;  "  Timaeus,"  ch.  x. 

*  "  Republic,"  bk.  ii.  ch.  xviii. ;  "  Timaeus,"  ch.  x, 

'  "  Laws,"  bk.  iv.  ch.  vii.  ^  Thompson's  "  Laws  of  Thought,"  p.  119. 

*  Cousin,  "Lectures  on  the  History  of  Philosophy,"  vol.  i.  p.  415.  *'  There 
is  no  quintessential  metaphysics  which  can  prevail  against  common  sense, 
and  if  such  be  the  Platonic  theory  of  ideas,  Aristotle  was  right  in  opposing 
it.  But  such  a  theory  is  only  a  chimera  which  Aristotle  created  for  the  pur- 
pose of  combating  it." — "The  True,  the  Beautiful,  and  the  Good,"  p.  77. 

"  "  Republic,"  bk.  vii.  ch.  iii.  "  Ibid.,  bk.  vi.  ch.  xviii.  and  xix. 


\ 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


379 


visible  image  of  the  good,  reigns  over  the  world,  in  that  it  il- 
lumes and  vivifies  it ;  so  the  Supreme  Good,  of  which  the  sun 
is  only  the  work,  reigns  over  the  intelligible  world,  in  that  it 
gives  birth  to  it  by  virtue  of  its  inexhaustible  fruitfulness.'  The 
Supreme  Good  is  God  himself,  and  he  is  designated  "  the  good  " 
because  this  term  seems  most  fittingly  to  express  his  essential 
character  and  essence.^  It  is  towards  this  superlative  perfec- 
tion that  the  reason  lifts  itself;  it  is  towards  this  infinite  beau- 
ty the  heart  aspires.  "  Marvellous  Beauty  !"  exclaims  Plato  ; 
"eternal,  uncreated,  imperishable  beauty,  free  from  increase 
and  diminution ....  beauty  which  has  nothing  sensible,  noth- 
ing corporeal,  as  hands  or  face  :  which  does  not  reside  in  any 
being  different  from  itself,  in  the  earth,  or  the  heavens,  or  in 
any  other  thing,  but  which  exists  eternally  and  absolutely  in  it- 
self, and  by  itself;  beauty  of  which  every  other  beauty  partakes, 
without  their  birth  or  destruction  bringing  to  it  the  least  in- 
crease or  diminution."^  The  absolute  being — God,  is  the  last 
reason,  the  ultimate  foundation,  the  complete  ideal  of  all  beau- 
ty.    God  is,  par  excellent,  the  Beautiful. 

God  is  therefore,  with  Plato,  the  First  Principle  of  all  Prin- 
ciples; the  Divine  energy  or  power  is  the  efficie7it  cause,  the  Di- 
vine beauty  the  formal  cause,  and  the  Divine  goodness  the 
final  cause  of  all  existence. 

The  eternal  unity  of  the  principles  of  Order,  Goodness,  and 
Truth,  in  an  ultimate  reality — the  eternal  mind,  is  thus  the 
fundamental  principle  which  pervades  the  whole  of  the  Platon- 
ic philosophy.  And  now,  having  attained  this  sublime  eleva- 
tion, he  looks  down  from  thence  upon  the  sensible,  the  phenom- 
enal world,  and  upon  the  temporal  life  of  man  ;  and  in  the  light 
of  this  great  principle  he  attempts  to  explain  their  meaning 
and  purpose.  The  results  he  attained  in  the  former  case  con- 
stitute the  Platonic  Physics,  in  the  latter,  the  Platonic  Ethics. 

^  "  Republic,"  bk.  vii.  ch,  iii. 

^  Ritter's  »"  History  of  Ancient  Philosophy,"  vol,  ii.  p.  275. 

^  "  Banquet,"  §  35.  See  Cousin,  "  The  True,  the  Beautiful,  and  the 
Good,"  Lecture  IV.,  also  Lecture  VIL  pp.  150-153 ;  Denis,  "Histoire  des 
Theories  et  Idees  Morales  dans  I'Antiquite,"  vol.  i,  p.  149. 


380  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

I.    PLATONIC   PHYSICS. 

Firmly  believing  in  the  absolute  excellence  of  the  Deity, 
and  regarding  the  Divine  Goodness  as  the  Final  Cause  of  the 
universe,  he  pronounces  the  physical  world  to  be  an  image  of 
the  perfection  of  God.  Anaxagoras,  no  doubt,  prepared  the 
way  for  this  theory.  Every  one  who  has  read  the  "  Phaedo," 
will  remember  the  remarkable  passage  in  which  Socrates  gives 
utterance  to  the  disappointment  which  he  had  experienced 
when  expecting  from  physical  science  an  .explanation  of  the 
universe.  "  When  I  was  young,"  he  said — "  it  is  not  to  be  told 
how  eager  I  was  about  physical  inquiries,  and  curious  to  know 
how  the  universe  catne  to  be  as  it  is ;  and  when  I  heard  that 
Anaxagoras  was  teaching  that  all  was  arranged  by  mind^  I  was 
delighted  with  the  prospect  of  hearing  such  a  doctrine  unfold- 
ed; I  thought  to  myself,  if  he  teaches  that  mind  made  every 
thing  to  be  as  it  is,  he  will  explain  how  it  is  by.st  for  it  to  be, 
and  show  that  so  it  is."  But  Anaxagoras,  it  appears,  lost  sight 
of  this  principle,  and  descended  to  the  explanation  of  the  uni- 
verse by  material  causes.  "  Great  was  my  hope,"  says  Socra- 
tes, "and  equally  great  my  disappointment."' 

Plato  accepted  this  suggestion  of  Anaxagoras  with  all  his 
peculiar  earnestness,  and  devoted  himself  to  its  fuller  develop- 
ment. It  were  a  vain  and  profitless  theory,  which,  whilst  it 
assumed  the  existence  of  a  Supreme  Mind,  did  not  represent 
that  mind  as  operating  in  the  universe  by  design,  and  as  exhib- 
iting his  intelligence,  and  justice,  and  goodness,  as  well  as  his 
power,  in  every  thing.  If  it  be  granted  that  there  is  a  Supreme 
Mind,  then,  argued  Plato,  he  must  be  regarded  as  "the  measure 
of  all  things,"  and  all  things  must  have  been  framed  accord- 
ing to  a  plan  or  "  model "  which  that  mind  supplied.  Intelli- 
gence must  be  regarded  as  having  2i  purpose,  and  as  working 
towards  an  end,  for  it  is  this  alone  which  distinguishes  reason 
from  unreason,  and  mind  from  mere  unintelligent  force.  The 
only  proper  model  which  could  be  presented  to  the  Supreme 
'  "  Phaedo,"  §§  105,  106. 


^" 


or   THE  ^> 

GREEK  PHIL  0  S  OFHY.     /f  TJ  TT  T  V  T^Vi  SIT 

Intelligence  is  "the  eternal  and  unchangeabl^S§<^|^ '"  which  ^\^ 
his  own  perfection  supplies,  "  for  he  is  the  mostSicellent  of  'Ji^^^ 
causes."^  Thus  God  is  not  simply  the  maker  of  the  universe, 
but  the  model  of  the  universe,  because  he  designed  that  it 
should  be  an  image,  in  the  sphere  of  sense,  of  his  own  perfec- 
tions—  a  revelation  of  his  eternal  beauty,  and  wisdom,  and 
goodness,  and  truth.  "  God  was  g'oodj  and  being  good,  he  de- 
sired that  the  universe  should,  as  far  as  possible,  resej7tble  him- 
self.       Desiring  that  all  things  should  be  good,  and,  as  far 

as  might  be,  nothing  evil,  he  took  the  fluctuating  mass  of 
things  visible,  which  had  been  in  orderless  confusion,  and  re- 
duced it  to  order,  considering  this  to  be  the  better  state.  Now 
it  was  and  is  utterly  impossible  for  the  supremely  good  to  form 
any  thing  except  that  which  is  most  excellent  {koKKkxtov — most 
fair,  most  beautiful  ").^  The  object  at  which  the  supreme  mind 
aimed  being  that  which  is  " best"  we  must,  in  tracing  his  op- 
erations in  the  universe,  always  look  for  ''''the  best"  in  every 
thing.*  Starting  out  thus,  upon  the  assumption  that  the  good- 
ness of  God  is  the  final  cause  of  the  universe,  Plato  evolved  a 
system  of  optimism. 

The  physical  system  of  Plato  being  thus  intended  to  illus- 
trate a  principle  of  optimism,  the  following  results  may  be  ex- 
pected : 

I.  That  it  will  mainly  concern  lis^M -v^ithjinal  causes.  The 
universe  being  regarded  chiefly,  as  indeed  it  is,  an  indication 
of  the  Divine  Intelligence — every  phenomenon  will  be  contem- 
plated in  that  light.  Nature  is  the  volume  in  which  the  Deity 
reveals  his  own  perfections ;  it  is  therefore  to  be  studied  solely 
with  this  motive,  that  we  may  learn  from  thence  the  perfec- 
tion of  God.  "  The  Timceus  is  a  series  of  ingenious  hypotheses 
designed  to  deepen  and  vivify  our  sense  of  the  harmony,  and 
symmetry,  and  beauty  of  the  universe,  and,  as  a  consequence, 
of  the  wisdom,  and  excellence,  and  goodness,  of  its  Author.* 

^  "Timaeus,"  ch.  ix.  "^  Ibid.  ^  Ibid.,  ch.  x.  ■»  Ibid.,  ch.  xix. 

*  "  Being  is  related  to  Becoming  (the  Absolute  to  the  Contingent)  as 

Truth  is  to  Belief;  consequently  we  must  not  marvel  should  we  find  it  im- 


382  CHMISTIANITY  AND 

Whatever  physical  truths  were  within  the  author's  reach,  took 
their  place  in  the  general  array:  the  vacancies  were  filled  up 
with  the  best  suppositions  admitted  by  the  limited  science  of 
the  time."*  And  it  is  worthy  of  remark  that,  whilst  proceeding 
by  this  "high  d  priori  road,"  he  made  some  startling  guesses 
at  the  truth,  and  anticipated  some  of  the  discoveries  of  the 
modern  inductive  method,  which  proceeds  simply  by  the  obser- 
vation, comparison,  and  generalization  of  facts.  Of  these  pro- 
phetic anticipations  we  may  instance  that  of  the  definite  pro- 
portions of  chemistry,'^  the  geometrical  forms  of  crystallog- 
raphy,^ the  doctrine  of  complementary  colors,*  and  that  grand 
principle  that  all  the  highest  laws  of  nature  assume  the  form  of 
a  precise  quantitative  statement.^ 

2.  It  may  be  expected  that  a  system  of  physics  raised  on* 
optimistic  principles  will  be  mathe7natical  rather  than  experi- 
mental. "  Intended  to  embody  conceptions  of  proportion  and 
harmony,  it  will  have  recourse  to  that  department  of  science 
which  deals  with  the  proportions  in  space  and  number.  Such 
applications  of  mathematical  truths,  not  being  raised  on  ascer- 
tained facts,  can  only  accidentally  represent  the  real  laws  of 
the  physical  system  ;  they  will,  however,  vivify  the  student's  ap- 
prehension of  harmony  in  the  same  manner  as  a  happy  parable, 
though  not  founded  in  real  history,  will  enliven  his  perceptions 
of  moral  truth."® 

3.  Another  peculiarity  of  such  a  system  will  be  an  impatience 
of  every  merely  mechanical  theory  of  the  operations  of  nature. 

possible  to  arrive  at  any  certain  and  conclusive  results  in  our  speculations 
upon  the  creation  of  the  visible  universe  and  its  authors ;  it  should  be 
enough  for  us  if  the  account  we  have  to  give  be  as  probable  as  any  other, 
remembering  that  we  are  but  men,  and  therefore  bound  to  acquiesce  in 
merely  probable  results,  without  looking  for  a  higher  degree  of  certainty 
than  the  subject  admits  of" — "  Timaeus,"  ch.  ix. 

^  Butler's  "  Lectures  on  Ancient  Philosophy,"  vol.  ii.  p.  157. 

^  "  Timaeus,"  ch.  xxxi.  ^  Ibid.,  ch.  xxvii.  *  IlDid.,  ch.  xHi. 

^  "  It  is  Plato's  merit  to  have  discovered  that  the  laws  of  the  physical 
universe  are  resolvable  into  numerical  relations,  and  therefore  capable  of 
being  represented  by  mathematical  formulae." — Butler's  "  Lectures  on  An- 
cient Philosophy,"  vol.  ii.  p.  163. 

"  Butler's  "  Lectures  on  Ancient  Philosophy,"  vol.  ii.  p.  163. 


GREEK  FHILOSOFHY.  383 

"  The  psychology  of  Plato  led  him  to  recognize  mind  wherever 
there  was  motion,  and  hence  not  only  to  require  a  Deity  as  first 
mover  of  the  universe,  but  also  to  conceive  the  propriety  of 
separate  and  subordinate  agents  attached  to  each  of  its  parts, 
as  principles  of  motion,  no  less  than  intelligent  directors. 
These  agents  were  entitled  ^gods '  by  an  easy  figure,  discerni- 
ble even  in  the  sacred  language,^  and  which  served,  besides,  to 
accommodate  philosophical  hypotheses  to  the  popular  religion. 
Plato,  however,  carefully  distinguished  between  the  sole.  Eter- 
nal Author  of  the  Universe,  on  the  one  hand,  and  that  *  soul,' 
vital  and  intelligent,  which  he  attaches  to  the  world,  as  well  as 
the  spheral  intelligences,  on  the  other.  These  *  subordinate 
deities,'  though  intrusted  with  a  sort  of  deputed  creation,  were 
still  only  the  deputies  of  the  Supreme  Framer  and  Director  of 
all."^  The  "gods"  of  the  Platonic  system  are  "subordinate 
divinities,"  "generated  gods,"  brought  into  existence  by  the 
will  and  wisdom  of  the  Eternal  Father  and  Maker  of  the  uni- 
verse.^ Even  Jupiter,  the  governing  divinity  of  the  popular 
mythology,  is  a  descendant  from  powers  which  are  included  in 
the  creation.*  The  offices  they  fulfill,  and  the  relations  they 
sustain  to  the  Supreme  Being,  correspond  to  those  of  the  "  an- 
gels "  of  Christian  theology.  They  are  the  ministers  of  his  prov- 
idential government  of  the  world. ^ 

The  application  of  this  fundamental  conception  of  the  Pla- 
tonic system — the  eternal  unity  of  the  principles  of  Order ^  Good- 
ness^ and  Truth  in  an  ultimate  reality^  the  Eternal  Mind — to  the 
elucidation  of  the  temporal  life  of  man,  yields,  as  a  result — 

II.    the' PLATONIC   ETHICS. 

Believing  firmly  that  there  are  unchangeable,  necessary,  and 
absolute  principles,  which  are  the  perfections  of  the  Eternal 
Mind,  Plato  must,  of  course,  have  been  a  believer  in  an  iiTwiuta- 
ble  morality.     He  held  that  there  is  a  Tightness,  a  justice,  an 

^  Psalm  Ixxxii.  I ;  John  x.  34. 

^  Butler's  "  Lectures  on  Ancient  Philosophy,"  vol.  ii.  p.  164. 

8  "  Timaeus,"  ch.  xv.  *  Ibid.  ^  "  Laws,"  bk.  x. 


384  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

equity,  not  arbitrarily  constituted  by  the  Divine  will  or  legisla- 
tion, but  founded  in  the  nature  of  God,  and  therefore  eternal. 
The  independence  of  the  principles  of  morality  upon  the  mere 
will  of  the  Supreme  Governor  is  proclaimed  in  all  his  writings/ 
The  Divine  will  is  the  fountain  of  efficiency,  the  Divine  reason, 
the  fountain  of  law.  God  is  no  more  the  creator  of  virtue  than 
he  is  the  creator  of  truth. 

And  inasmuch  as  man  is  a  partaker  of  the  Divine  essence, 
and  as  the  ideas  which  dwell  in  the  human  reason  are  "copies" 
of  those  which  dwell  in  the  Divine  reason,  man  may  rise  to  the 
apprehension  and  recognition  of  the  immutable  and  eternal 
principles  of  righteousness,  and  "by  communion  with  that 
which  is  Divine,  and  subject  to  the  law  of  order,  may  become 
himself  a  subject  of  order,  and  divine,  so  far  as  it  is  possible  for 
man."' 

The  attainment  of  this  consummation  is  the  grand  purpose 
of  the  Platonic  philosophy.  Its  ultimate  object  is  ^Uhe purifica- 
tion of  the  soul^^  and  its  pervading  spirit  is  the  aspiration  after 
perfection.  The  whole  system  of  Plato  has  therefore  an  emi- 
nently ethical  character.  It  is  a  speculative  philosophy  directed 
to  a  practical  purpose. 

Philosophy  is  the  love  of  wisdom.  Now  wisdom  {ao(f)ia)  is 
expressly  declared  by  Plato  to  belong  alone  to  the  Supreme 
Divinity,^  who  alone  can  contemplate  reality  in  a  direct  and 
immediate  manner,  and  in  whom,  as  Plato  seems  often  to  inti- 
mate, knowledge  and  being  coincide.  Philosophy  is  the  aspi- 
ration of  the  soul  after  this  wisdom,  this  perfect  and  immutable 
truth,  and  in  its  realization  it  is  a  union  with  the  Perfect  Wis- 
dom through  the  medium  of  a  divine  affection,  the  love  of  which 
Plato  so  often  speaks.  The  eternal  and  unchangeable  Essence 
which  is  the  proper  object  of  philosophy  is  also  endowed  with 
moral  attributes.  He  is  not  only  "the  Being,"  but  "the  Good" 
(tu  ayadop),  and  all  in  the  system  of  the  universe  which  can  be 
the  object  of  rational  contemplation,  is  an  emanation  from  that 

*  In  "  Euthyphron"  especially.  '  "  Republic,"  bk.  vi.  ch.  xiii. 

^  "  Phadrus,"  §  145. 


GREEK  FHIL080PHY.  385 

goodness.  The  love  of  truth  is*  therefore  the  love  of  Good,  and 
the  love  of  Good  is  the  love  of  truth.  Philosophy  and  morality 
are  thus  coincident.  "  Philosophy  is  the  love  of  Perfect  Wis- 
dom ;  Perfect  Wisdom  and  Perfect  Goodness  are  identical  j  the 
Perfect  Good  is  God ;  philosophy  is  the  Love  ofGody^  Ethic- 
ally viewed,  it  is  this  one  motive  of  love  for  the  Supreme  Wis- 
dom and  Goodness,  predominating  over  and  purifying  and  as- 
similating every  desire  of  the  soul,  and  governing  every  move- 
ment of  the  man,  raising  man  to  a  participation  of  and  com- 
munion with  Divinity,  and  restoring  him  to  "the  likefiess  of 
God."  "This  flight,"  says  Plato,  "consists  in  resembling  God 
(6fxoiu)(TiQ  0fw),  and  this  resemblance  is  the  becoming  just  and 
holy  with  wisdom."'*  "This  assimilation  to  God  is  the  enfran- 
chisement of  the  divine  element  of  the  soul.  To  approach  to 
God  as  the  substance  of  truth  is  Science ;  as  the  substance  of 
goodness  in  truth  is  Wisdom,  and  as  the  substance  of  Beauty 
in  goodness  and  truth  is  Love^"^ 

The  two  great  principles  which  can  be  clearly  traced  as  per- 
vading the  ethical  system  of  Plato  are — 

1.  That  no  man  is  willingly  evil.^ 

2.  That  every  man  is  ejidued  with  the  power  of  pi'odiuing 
changes  in  his  moral  character.^ 

The  first  of  these  principles  is  the  counterpart  ethical  ex- 
pression of  his  theory  of  immutable  Being.  The  second  is  the 
counterpart  of  his  theory  of  phenomenal  change,  or  mere  Be- 
coming. 

The  soul  of  man  is  framed  after  the  pattern  of  the  immutable 
ideas  of  the  jicst,  and  the  true,  and  the  good,  which  dwell  in  the 
Eternal  Mind — that  is,  it  is  made  in  the  image  of  God.  The 
soul  in  its  ultimate  essence  is  formed  of  "  the  immutable  "  and 
"the  permanent."  The  presence  of  the  ideas  of  the  just,  and 
the  true,  and  the  good  in  the  reason  of  man,  constitute  him  a 

^  Butler's  "  Lectures  on  Ancient  Philosophy,"  vol.  ii.  p.  61. 

'  "  Theaetetus,"  §  84. 

^  Butler's  "  Lectures  on  Ancient  Philosophy,"  vol.  ii.  p.  277. 

*  "  Timaeus,"  ch.  xlviii. 

*  "Laws,"  bk.  v.  ch.  i.,  bk.  ix.  ch.  vi.,  bk.  x.  ch.  xii. 

25 


386  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

moral  nature ;  and  it  is  impossible  that  he  can  cease  to  be  a 
moral  being,  for  these  ideas,  having  a  permanent  and  immuta- 
ble being,  can  not  be  changed.  All  the  passions  and  affections 
of  the  soul  are  merely  phenomenal.  They  belong  to  the  mor- 
tal, the  transitory  life  of  man;  they  are  in  endless  flow  and 
change,  and  they  have  no  permanent  reality.  As  phenomena, 
they  must,  however,  have  some  ground ;  and  Plato  found  that 
ground  in  the  mysterious,  instinctive  longing  for  the  good  and 
the  true  which  dwells  in  the  very  essence  of  the  soul.  These 
are  the  realities  after  which  it  strives,  even  when  pursuing 
pleasure,  and  honor,  and  wealth,  and  fame.  All  the  restless- 
ness of  human  life  is  prompted  by  a  longing  for  the  good.  But 
man  does  not  clearly  perceive  what  the  good  really  is.  The  ra- 
tional element  of  the  soul  has  become  clouded  by  passion  and 
ignorance,  and  suffered  an  eclipse  of  its  powers.  Still,  man 
longs  for  the  good,  and  bears  witness,  by  his  restlessness  and 
disquietude,  that  he  instinctively  desires  it,  and  that  he  can  find 
no  rest  and  no  satisfaction  in  any  thing  apart  from  the  knowl- 
edge and  the  participation  of  the  Supreme,  the  Absolute  Good. 

This,  then,  is  the  meaning  of  the  oft-repeated  assertion  of 
Plato  ^^that  no  man  is  willingly  evil  •'^  viz.,  that  no  man  deliber- 
ately chooses  evil  as  evil.  And  Plato  is,  at  the  same  time,  care- 
ful to  guard  the  doctrine  from  misconception.  He  readily 
grants  that  acts  of  wrong  are  distinguished  as  voluntary  and 
involuntary,  without  which  there  could  be  neither  merit  nor  de- 
merit, reward  nor  punishment.^  But  still  he  insists  that  no 
man  chooses  evil  in  and  by  itself  He  may  choose  it  volun- 
tarily as  a  means,  but  he  does  not  choose  it  as  an  end.  Every 
volition,  by  its  essential  nature,  pursues,  at  least,  an  apparent 
good ;  because  the  end  of  volition  is  not  the  immediate  act, 
but  the  object  for  the  sake  of  which  the  act  is  undertaken.'' 

How  is  it,  then,  it  may  be   asked,  that  men  become  evil  ? 

The  answer  of  Plato  is,  that  the  soul  has  in  it  a  principle  of 

change,  in  the  power  of  regulating  the  desires — in  indulging 

them  to  excess,  or  moderating  them  according  to  the  demands 

^  "  Laws,"  bk.  ix.  ch.  vi.  ^  "  Gorgias,"  §§  52,  53. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  387 

of  reason.  The  circumstances  in  which  the  soul  is  placed,  as 
connected  with  the  sensible  world  by  means  of  the  body,  pre- 
sent an  occasion  for  the  exercise  of  that  power,  the  end  of  this 
temporal  connection  being  to  establish  a  state  of  moral  disci- 
"pline  and  probation.  The  humors  and  distempers  of  the  body 
likewise  deprave,  disorder,  and  discompose  the  soul.^  "  Pleas- 
ures and  pains  are  unduly  magnified ;  the  democracy  of  the 
passions  prevails;  and  the  ascendency  of  reason  is  cast  down." 
Bad  forms  of  civil  government  corrupt  social  manners,  evil 
education  effects  the  ruin  of  the  soul.  Thus  the  soul  is 
changed — is  fallen  from  what  it  was  when  first  it  came  from 
the  Creator's  hand.  But  the  eternal  Ideas  are  not  utterly 
effaced,  the  image  of  God  is  not  entirely  lost.  The  soul  may 
yet  be  restored  by  remedial  measures.  It  may  be  purified 
by  knowledge,  by  truth,  by  expiations,  by  sufferings,  and  by 
prayers.  The  utmost,  however,  that  man  can  hope  to  do  in 
this  life  is  insufficient  to  fully  restore  the  image  of  God,  and 
death  must  complete  the  final  emancipation  of  the  rational  ele- 
ment from  the  bondage  of  the  flesh.  Life  is  thus  a  discipline 
and  a  preparation  for  another  state  of  being,  and  death  the 
final  entrance  there." 

Independent  of  ail  other  considerations,  virtue  is,  therefore, 
to  be  pursued  as  the  true  good  of  the  soul.  Wisdom,  Forti- 
tude, Temperance,  Justice,  the  four  cardinal  virtues  of  the  Pla- 
tonic system,  are  to  be  cultivated  as  the  means  of  securing  the 
purification  and  perfection  of  the  inner  man.  And  the  ordi- 
nary pleasures,  "the  lesser  goods"  of  life,  are  only  to  be  so  far 
pursued  as  they  are  subservient  to,  and  compatible  with,  the 
higher  and  holier  duty  of  striving  after  "  the  resemblance  to 
God." 

^  «  Gorgias,"  §§  74-76.  "^  "  Phaedo,"  §§  130, 131. 


388  CHRISTIANITY  AND 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE   PHILOSOPHERS   OF   ATHENS   {continued). 
THE  SOCRATIC  SCHOOL  {continued). 

ARISTOTLE. 

ARISTOTLE  was  born  at  Stagira,  a  Greek  colony  of 
Thrace,  B.C.  384.  His  father,  Nicomachus,  was  a  physi- 
cian in  the  Court  of  Amyntas  II.,  King  of  Macedonia,  and  is 
reported  to  have  written  several  works  on  Medicine  and  Natu- 
ral History.  From  his  father,  Aristotle  seems  to  have  inherited 
a  love  for  the  natural  sciences,  which  was  fostered  by  the  cir- 
cumstances which  surrounded  him  in  early  life,  and  which  ex- 
erted a  determining  influence  upon  the  studies  of  his  riper  years. 

Impelled  by  an  insatiate  desire  for  knowledge,  he,  at  seven- 
teen years  of  age,  repaired  to  Athens,  the  city  of  Plato  and 
the  university  of  the  world.  Plato  was  then  absent  in  Sicily  j 
on  his  return  Aristotle  entered  his  school,  became  an  ardent 
student  of  philosophy,  and  remained  until  the  death  of  Plato, 
B.C.  348.  He  therefore  listened  to  the  instructions  of  Plato 
for  twenty  years. 

The  mental  characteristics  of  the  pupil  and  the  teacher  were 
strikingly  dissimilar.  Plato  was  poetic,  ideal,  and  in  some  de- 
gree mystical.  Aristotle  was  prosaic,  systematic,  and  practi- 
cal. Plato  was  intuitive  and  synthetical.  Aristotle  was  logical 
and  analytical.  It  was  therefore  but  natural  that,  to  the  mind 
of  Aristotle,  there  should  appear  something  confused,  irregular, 
and  incomplete  in  the  discourses  of  his  master.  There  was  a 
strange  commingling  of  questions  concerning  the  grounds  of 
morality,  and  statements  concerning  the  nature  of  science ;  of 
inquiries  concerning  "  real  being,"  and  speculations  on  the  or- 
dering of  a  model  Republic,  in  the  same  discourse.     Ethics, 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  389 

politics,  ontology,  and  theology,  are  all  comprised  in  his  Dialec- 
tic, which  is,  in  fact,  the  one  grand  "  science  of  the  idea  of  the 
good."  Now  to  the  mind  of  Aristotle  it  seemed  better,  and 
much  more  systematic,  that  these  questions  should  be  separa- 
ted, and  referred  to  particular  heads ;  and,  above  all,  that  they 
should  be  thoroughly  discussed  in  an  exact  and  settled  termi- 
nology. To  arrange  and  classify  all  the  objects  of  knowledge, 
to  discuss  them  systematically  and,  as  far  as  possible,  exhaust- 
ively, was  evidently  the  ambition,  perhaps  also  the  special 
function,  of  Aristotle.  He  would  survey  the  entire  field  of  hu- 
man knowledge ;  he  would  study  nature  as  well  as  humanity, 
matter  as  well  as  mind,  language  as  well  as  thought ;  he  would 
define  the  proper  limits  of  each  department  of  study,  and  pre- 
sent a  regular  statement  of  the  facts  and  principles  of  each 
science.  And,  in  fact,  he  was  the  first  who  really  separated 
the  different  sciences  and  erected  them  into  distinct  systems, 
each  resting  upon  its  own  proper  principles.  He  distributed 
philosophy  into  three  branches:  —  (i.)  Theoretic;  (ii.)  Efficient; 
(iii.)  Practical.     The  Theoretic  he  divided  into  —  i.  Physics ; 

2.  Mathematics;  3.  Theology,  or  the  Prime  Philosophy — the 
science  known  in  modern  times  as  Metaphysics.  The  Efficient 
embraces  what  we  now  term  the  arts,  as — i.  Logic;  2.  Rhetoric; 

3.  Poetics.  The  Practical  comprises — i.  Ethics;  2.  Politics.  On 
all  these  subjects  he  wrote  separate  treatises.  Thus,  whilst 
Plato  is  the  genius  of  abstraction,  Aristotle  is  eminently  the 
genius  of  classification. 

Such  being  the  mental  characteristics  of  the  two  men — their 
type  of  mind  so  opposite — we  are  prepared  to  expect  that,  in 
pursuing  his  inquiries,  Aristotle  would  develop  a  different  •  Qr- 
ganon  from  that  of  Plato,  and  that  the  teachings  of  Aristotle 
will  give  a  new  direction  to  philosophic  thought. 

ARISTOTELIAN    ORGANON. 

Plato  made  use  of  psychological  and  logical  analysis  in  order 
to  draw  from  the  depth  of  consciousness  certain  fundamental 
ideas  which  are  inherent  in  the  mind — born  with  it,  and  not 


390  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

derived  from  sense  or  experience.  These  ideas  he  designates 
"  the  intelligible  species  "  {to.  voov^eva  yiprj)  as  opposed  to  "  the 
visible  species  " — the  objects  of  sense.  Such  ideas  or  princi- 
ples being  found,  he  uses  them  as  "  starting-points "  from 
which  he  may  pass  beyond  the  sensible  world  and  ascend  to 
"  the  absolute,"  that  is,  to  God.^  Having  thus,  by  immediate 
abstraction,  attained  to  universal  and  necessary  ideas,  he  de- 
scends to  the  outer  world,  and  attempts  by  these  ideas  to  con- 
struct an  intellectual  theory  of  the  universe.'* 

Aristotle  will  reverse  this  process.  He  will  commence  with 
sensation^  and  proceed,  by  induction,  from  the  known  to  the  un- 
known. 

The  repetition  of  sensations  produces  recollection^  recollec- 
tion experience,  and  experience  produces  sciejice?  "  Science  and 
art  result  unto  men  by  means  of  experience. . .  ."  "Art  comes 
into  being  when,  from  a  number  of  experiences,  one  universal 
opinion  is  evolved,  which  will  embrace  all  similar  cases.  For 
example,  if  you  know  that  a  certain  remedy  has  cured  Callias 
of  a  certain  disease,  and  that  the  same  remedy  has  produced 
the  same  effect  on  Socrates  and  on  several  other  persons,  that 
is  Experience ;  but  to  know  that  a  certain  remedy  will  cure  all 
persons  attacked  with  that  disease,  is  Art.  Experience  is  a 
knowledge  of  individual  things  {tUjv  KaQUauTo) ;  art  is  that  of 
universals  (twv  fcaSoXou)."* 

Disregarding  the  Platonic  notion  of  the  unity  of  all  Being 
in  the  absolute  idea,  he  fixed  his  immediate  attention  on  the 
manifoldness  of  the  phenomenal,  and  by  a  classification  of 
all  the  objects  of  experience  he  sought  to  attain  to  "general 
notions."  Concentrating  all  his  attention  on  the  individual, 
the  contingent,  the  particular,  he  ascends,  by  induction,  from 
the  particular  to  the  general ;  and  then,  by  a  strange  paralo- 
gism, "the  universaV^  is  confounded  with  "the  general,''  or,  by 
a  species  of  logical  sleight-of-hand,  the  general  is  transmuted 
into  the  universal.     Thus  "  induction  is  the  pathway  from  par- 

^  "  Republic,"  bk.  vi.  ch.  xx.  =  "  Timaeus,"  ch.  ix. 

^  "  Metaphysics,"  bk.  i.  ch.  i.  *  Ibid. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  391 

ticulars  to  universals."^  But  how  universal  and  necessary 
principles  can  be  obtained  by  a  generalization  of  limited  expe- 
riences is  not  explained  by  Aristotle.  The  experiences  of  a 
lifetime,  the  experiences  of  the  whole  race,  are  finite  and  lim- 
ited, and  a  generalization  of  these  can  only  give  the  finite,  the 
limited,  and  at  most,  the  general,  but  not  the  universal. 

Aristotle  admits,  however,  that  there  are  ideas  or  principles 
in  the  mind  which  can  not  be  explained  by  experience,  and  we 
are  therefore  entitled  to  an  answer  to  the  question — how  are 
these  obtained  ?  "  Sensible  experience  gives  us  what  is  here^ 
there,  now,  in  such  and  such  a  manner,  but  it  is  impossible  for 
it  to  give  what  is  everywhere  and  at  all  timesy^  He  tells  us 
further,  that  "  science  is  a  conception  of  the  mind  engaged  in 
universals,  and  in  those  things  which  exist  of  necessity,  and 
since  there  are  principles  of  things  demonstrable  and  of  every  sci- 
ence (for  science  is  joined  with  reason),  it  will  be  neither  science, 
nor  art,  nor  prudence,  which  discovers  the  principles  of  science ; 
....  it  must  therefore  be  {yovq)  pure  intellect,"  or  the  intuitive 
reason.^  He  also  characterizes  these  principles  as  self-evident. 
"  First  truths  are  those  which  obtain  belief,  not  through  others, 
but  through  themselves,  as  there  is  no  necessity  to  investigate 
the  '  why '  in  scientific  principles,  but  each  principle  ought  to 
be  credible  by  itself."*  They  are  also  necessary  and  eternal. 
"  Demonstrative  science  is  from  necessary  principles,  and  those 
which  2LX&per  se  inherent,  are  necessarily  so  in  things."^  "We 
have  all  a  conception  of  that  which  can  not  subsist  otherwise 
than  it  does The  object  of  science  has  a  necessary  exist- 
ence, therefore  it  is  eternal.  For  those  things  which  exist  in 
themselves,  by  necessity,  are  all  eternal."^  But  whilst  Aristotle 
admits  that  there  are  "  immutable  and  first  principles,"^  which 
are  not  derived  from  sense  and  experience^"  principles  which 
are  the  foundation  of  all  science  and  demonstration,  but  which 

*  "  Topics,"  bk.  i.  ch.  xii.;  "  Ethics,"  bk.  vi.  ch.  iii. 

"^  "  Post.  Analytic,"  bk.  i.  ch.  xxxi.  ^  "  Ethics,"  bk.  vi.  ch.  vi. 

"  '*  Topics,"  bk.  i.  ch.  i.  ^  "  Post.  Analytic,"  bk.  i.  ch.  vi. 

°  "  Ethics,"  bk.  vi.  ch.  iii.  '^  Ibid.,  bk.  vi.  ch.  xi. 


392  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

are  themselves  indemonstrable,"^  because  self-evident,  neces- 
sary, and  eternal ;  yet  he  furnishes  no  proper  account  of  their 
genesis  and  development  in  the  human  mind,  neither  does  he 
attempt  their  enumeration.  At  one  time  he  makes  the  intellect 
itself  their  source,  at  another  he  derives  them  from  sense,  expe- 
rience, and  induction.  This  is  the  defect,  if  not  the  inconsist- 
ency, of  his  method.'^ 

The  human  mind,  he  tells  us,  has  two  kinds  of  intelligence 
— the, passive  intelligence  {vovq  itaQrjTLKog),  which  is  the  receptacle 
of  forms  {Iektikov  tov  e'lIovq);  and  the  active  intelligence  {vovq 
TToirjTiKog),  which  impresses  the  seal  of  thought  upon  the  data 
furnished  by  experience,  and  combines  them  into  the  unity  of  a 
single  judgment,  thus  attaining  "general  notions."^  The  pas- 
sive intelligence  (the  "external  perception"  of  modern  psy- 
chology) perceives  the  individual  forms  which  appear  in  the 
external  world,  and  the  active  intelligence  (the  intellect  proper) 
classifies  and  generalizes  according  to  fixed  laws  or  principles 
inherent  in  itself;  but  of  these  fixed  laws — Trpwra  voij^ara — first 
thoughts,  or  d  priori  ideas,  he  offers  no  proper  account ;  they 
are,  at  most,  purely  subjective.  This,  it  w^ould  seem,  was,  in 
effect,  a  return  to  the  doctrine  of  Protagoras  and  his  school, 
"  that  man — the  individual — is  the  measure  of  all  things."  The 
aspects  under  which  objects  present  themselves  in  conscious- 
ness, constitute  our  only  ground  of  knowledge ;  we  have  no 
direct,  intuitive  knowledge  of  Being  i7i  se.     The  noetic  faculty 

^  "  Post.  Analytic,"  bk.  i.  ch.  iii. 

^  Hamilton  attempts  the  following  mode  of  reconciling  the  contradictory 
positions  of  Aristotle  : 

"  On  the  supposition  of  the  mind  virtually  containing,  antecedent  to  all 
experience,  certain  universal  principles  of  knowledge,  in  the  form  of  certain 
necessities  of  thinking ;  still  it  is  only  by  repeated  and  comparative  experi- 
ments that  we  compass  the  certainty ;  on  the  one  hand,  that  such  and  such 
cognitions  can  not  but  be  thought  as  necessary,  native  generalities  ;  and,  on 
the  other,  that  such  and  such  cognitions  may  or  may  not  be  thought,  and 
are,  therefore,  as  contingent,  factitious  generalizations.  To  this  process  of 
experiment,  analysis,  and  classification,  through  which  we  attain  to  a  scien- 
tific knowledge  of  principles,  it  might  be  shown  that  Aristotle,  not  improp- 
erly, applies  the  term  hidiidion.'''' — "  Philosophy,"  p.  88. 

^  "  On  the  Soul,"  ch.  vi.;  "  Ethics,"  bk.  vi.  ch.  i. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


393 


is  simply  a  regulative  faculty ;  it  furnishes  the  laws  under  which 
we  compare  and  judge,  but  it  does  not  supply  any  original  ele- 
ments of  knowledge.  Individual  things  are  the  only  real  enti- 
ties,^ and  "  universals  "  have  no  separate  existence  apart  from 
individuals  in  which  they  inhere  as  attributes  or  properties. 
They  are  consequently  pure  mental  conceptions,  which  are  fixed 
and  recalled  by  general  names.  He  thus  substitutes  a  species 
of  conceptual-nominalism  in  place  of  the  realism  of  Plato.  It  is 
true  that  "real  being"  {to  ov)  is  with  Aristotle  a  subject  of  met- 
aphysical inquiry,  but  the  proper,  if  not  the  only  subsistence,  or 
oi/o-m,  is  the  form  or  abstract  nature  of  things.  "  The  essence 
or  very  nature  of  a  thing  is  inherent  in  Hit  form  and  energy.'''^ 
The  science  of  Metaphysics  is  strictly  conversant  about  these 
abstract,  intellectual  forms,  just  as  Natural  Philosophy  is  con- 
versant about  external  objects,  of  which  the  senses  give  us  in- 
formation. Our  knowledge  of  these  intellectual  forms  is,  how- 
ever, founded  upon  "  beliefs "  rather  than  upon  immediate  in- 
tuition, and  the  objective  certainty  of  science,  upon  the  subjec- 
tive necessity  of  believing,  and  not  upon  direct  apperception. 

The  points  of  contrast  between  the  two  methods  may  now 
be  presented  in  a  few  sentences.  Plato  held  that  all  our  cog- 
nitions are  reducible  to  two  elements — one  derived  from  se?isej 
the  other  from  pure  reason  ;  one  element  particular,  contingent, 
and  relative,  the  other  universal,  necessary,  and  absolute.  By 
an  act  of  immediate  abstraction  Plato  will  eliminate  the  particu- 
lar, contingent,  and  relative  phenomena,  and  disengage  the 
universal,  necessary,  and  absolute  ideas  which  underlie  and 
determine  all  phenomena.  These  ideas  are  the  thoughts  of 
the  Divine  Mind,  according  to  which  all  particular  and  indi- 
vidual existences  are  generated,  and,  as  divine  thoughts,  they 
are  real  and  permanent  existences.  Thus  by  a  process  of  im- 
mediate abstraction,  he  will  rise  from  particular  and  contingent 
phenomena  to  universal  and  necessary  principles,  and  from 
these  to  the  First  Principle  of  all  principles,  the  First  Cause 
of  all  causes — that  is,  to  God, 

*  "  Metaphysics,"  bk.  vi.  ch.  xiii.  "^  Ibid.,  bk.  vii.  ch.  iii. 


394  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

Aristotle,  on  the  contrary,  held  that  all  our  knowledge  be- 
gins with  "  the  singular,"  that  is,  with  the  particular  and  the 
relative,  and  is  derived  from  sensation  and  experience.  The 
"  sensible  object,"  taken  as  it  is  without  any  sifting  and  prob- 
ing, is  the  basis  of  science,  and  reason  is  simply  the  architect 
constructing  science  according  to  certain  "forms"  or  laws  in- 
herent in  mind.  The  object,  then,  of  metaphysical  science  is 
to  investigate  those  "  universal  notions  "  under  which  the  mind 
conceives  of  and  represents  to  itself  external  objects,  and 
speculates  concerning  them.  Aristotle,  therefore,  agrees  with 
Plato  in  teaching  "  that  science  can  only  be  a  science  of  uni- 
versals,"^  and  "that  sensation  alone  can  not  furnish  us  with 
scientific  knowledge."^  How,  then,  does  he  propose  to  attain 
the  knowledge  of  universal  principles  .-*  How  will  he  perform 
that  feat  which  he  calls  "passing  from  the  known  to  the  un- 
known ?"  The  answer  is,  by  comparative  ahstradion.  The  uni- 
versal being  constituted  by  a  relation  of  the  object  to  the  think- 
ing subject,  that  is,  by  a  property  recognized  by  the  intelli- 
gence alone,  in  virtue  of  which  it  can  be  retained  as  an  object 
of  thought,  and  compared  with  other  objects,  he  proposes  to 
compare,  analyze,  define,  and  classify  the  primary  cognitions,  and 
thus  evoke  into  energy,  and  clearly  present  those  principles  or 
forms  of  the  intelligence  which  he  denominate  "universals." 
As  yet,  however,  he  has  only  attained  to  "general  notions," 
which  are  purely  subjective,  that  is,  to  logical  definitions,  and 
these  logical  definitions  are  subsequently  elevated  to  the  dig- 
nity of  "  universal  principles  and  causes  "  by  a  species  of  phil- 
osophic legerdemain.  Philosophy  is  thus  stripped  of  its  meta- 
physical character,  and  assumes  a  strictly  logical  aspect.  The 
key  of  the  Aristotelian  method  is  therefore  the 

ARISTOTELIAN   LOGIC. 

Pure  Logic  is  the  science  of  the  formal  laws  of  thought.    Its 
office  is  to  ascertain  the  rules  or  conditions  under  which  the 
mind,  by  its  own  constitution,  reasons  and  discourses.     The 
*  "  Ethics,"  bk.  vi.  ch.  vi.  '  "  Post.  Analytic,"  bk.  i.  ch.  xxxi. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY, 


395 


office  of  Applied  Logic — of  logic  as  an  art — is  "  to  form  and 
judge  of  conclusions,  and,  through  conclusions,  to  establish 
proof.  The  conclusions,  however,  arise  from  propositions,  and 
the  propositions  from  conceptions."  It  is  chiefly  under  the 
latter  aspect  that  logic  is  treated  by  Aristotle.  According  to 
this  natural  point  of  view  he  has  divided  the  contents  of  the 
logical  and  dialectic  teaching  in  the  different  treatises  of  the 
Organon. 

The  first  treatise  is  the  *■'■  Categories'^  ox  "Predicaments" — a 
work  which  treats  of  the  universal  determinations  of  Being.  It 
is  a  classification  of  all  our  mental  conceptions.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  the  mind  forms  notions  or  conceptions  about  those 
natures  and  essences  of  things  which  present  an  outward  image 
to  the  senses,  or  those,  equally  real,  which  utter  themselves  to 
the  mind.  These  may  be  defined  and  classified ;  there  may 
be  general  conceptions  to  which  all  particular  conceptions  are 
referable.  This  classification  has  been  attempted  by  Aristotle, 
and  as  the  result  we  have  the  ten  "  Categories "  of  Substance^ 
Quantity^  Quality,  Relation,  Time,  Place^  Position,  Possession, 
Action,  Passion.  He  does  not  pretend  that  this  classification 
is  complete,  but  he  held  these  "  Predicaments "  to  be  the  most 
universal  expressions  for  the  various  relations  of  things,  under 
some  one  of  which  every  thing  might  be  reduced. 

The  second  treatise,  "(9/^  Interpretation,'^  investigates  lan- 
guage as  the  expression  of  thought ;  and  inasmuch  as  a  true 
or  false  thought  must  be  expressed  by  the  union  or  separa- 
tion of  a  subject  and  a  predicate,  he  deems  it  necessary  to  dis- 
cuss the  parts  of  speech — the  general  term  and  the  verb — and 
the  modes  of  affirmation  and  denial.  In  this  treatise  he  de- 
velops the  nature  and  limitations  of  propositions,  the  mean- 
ing of  contraries  and  contradictions,  and  the  force  of  affirma- 
tions and  denials  m  possible,  contingent,  and  necessary  matter. 

The  third  are  the  ^^ Analytics,''  which  show  how  conclusions 
are  to  be  referred  back  to  their  principles,  and  arranged  in  the 
order  of  their  precedence. 

The  First  or  Prior  Analytic  presents  the  universal  doctrine 


( 


396  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

of  the  Syllogism,  its  principles  and -forms,  and  teaches  how  we 
must  reason,  if  we  would  not  violate  the  laws  of  our  own  mind. 
The  theory  of  reasoning,  generally,  with  a  view  to  accurate  dem- 
onstration, depends  itpon  the  construction  of  a  perfect  syllo- 
gism, which  is  defined  as  "  a  discourse  in  which,  certain  things 
being  laid  down,  something  else  different  from  the  premises 
necessarily  results,  in  consequence  of  their  existence."^  Con- 
clusions are,  according  to  their  own  contents  and  end,  either 
Apodeictic^  which  deal  with  necessary  and  demonstrable  matter, 
or  Dialectic,  which  deal  with  probable  matter,  or  Sophistical, 
which  are  imperfect  in  matter  or  form,  and  announced,  decep- 
tively, as  correct  conclusions,  when  they  are  not.  The  doc- 
trine of  Apodeictic  conclusions  is  given  in  the  ''^Posterior  Ana- 
lytic,'' that  of  Dialectic  conclusions  in  the  ^^ Topics,''  and  that  of 
the  Sophistical  in  the  ^^Sophistical  Elenchi." 

Now,  if  Logic  is  of  any  value  as  an  instrument  for  the  dis- 
covery of  truth,  the  attainment  of  certitude,  it  must  teach  us 
not  only  how  to  deduce  conclusions  from  premises,  but  it  must 
certify  to  us  the  validity  of  the  principles  from  whence  we  rea- 
son ;  and  this  is  attempted  by  Aristotle  in  the  Posterior  Ana- 
lytic. This  treatise  opens  with  the  following  statement :  "  All 
doctrine,  and  all  intellectual  discipline,  arises  from  a  prior  or 
pre-existent  knowledge.  This  is  evident,  if  we  survey  them 
all ;  for  both  mathematical  sciences,  and  also  each  of  the  arts, 
are  obtained  in  this  manner.  The  same  holds  true  in  the  case 
of  reasonings,  whether  through  [deductive]  Syllogism  or  through 
Induction,  for  both  accomplish  the  instruction  they  afford  from 
information  previously  known — the  former  (syllogistic  reason- 
ing) receiving  it,  as  it  were,  from  the  traditions  of  the  intelli- 
gent, the  latter  (inductive  reasoning)  manifesting  the  universal 
through  the  light  of  the  singular.'"  Induction  and  Syllogism 
are  thus  the  grand  instruments  of  logic' 

^  "  Prior  Analytic,"  bk.  i.  ch.  i.;  "  Topics,"  bk.  i.  ch.  i. 
^  "  Post.  Analytic,"  bk.  i.  ch.  i. 

^  "  We  believe  all  things  through  syllogism,  or  from  induction." — "  Prior 
Analytic,"  bk.  ii.  ch.  xxiii. 


OREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  397 

Both  these  processes  are  based  upon  an  anterior  knowledge. 
"  Demonstrative  science  must  be  from  things  true,  first,  imme- 
diate, more  known  than,  prior  to,  and  the  causes  of,  the  conclu- 
sion, for  thus  there  will  be  the  appropriate  first  principles  of 
whatever  is  demonstrated."'  The  first  principles  of  demon- 
stration, the  material  of  thought,  must,  consequently,  be  sup- 
pHed  by  some  power  or  faculty  of  the  mind  other  than  that 
which  is  engaged  in  generalization  and  deductive  reasoning. 
Whence,  then,  is  this  "  anterior  knowledge "  derived,  and  what 
tests  or  criteria  have  we  of  its  validity  ? 

1.  In  regard  to  deductive  or  syllogistic  reasoning,  the  views 
of  Aristotle  are  very  distinctly  expressed. 

Syllogistic  reasoning  "proceeds  from  generals  to  particu- 
lars."^^ The  general  must  therefore  be  supplied  as  the  founda- 
tion of  the  deductive  reasoning.  Whence,  then,  is  this  knowl- 
edge of  "  the  general "  derived  ?  The  answer  of  Aristotle  is 
that  the  universal  major  proposition,  out  of  which  the  conclu- 
sion of  the  syllogism  is  drawn,  is  itself  necessarily  the  cottcliision 
of  a  previous  induction^  and  mediately  or  immediately  an  inference 
• — a  collection  from  individual  objects  of  sensation  or  of  self- 
consciousness.  "  Now,"  says  he,  "  demonstration  is  from  uni- 
versals,  but  induction  from  particulars.  It  is  impossible,  how- 
ever, to  investigate  universals  except  through  induction,  since 
things  which  are  said  to  be  from  abstraction  will  be  known 
only  by  induction."*  It  is  thus  clear  that  Aristotle  makes  de- 
duction  necessarily  dependent  upon  induction.  He  maintains  that 
the  highest  or  most  universal  principles  which  constitute  the 
primary  and  immediate  propositions  of  the  former  are  furnish- 
ed by  the  latter. 

2.  General  principles  being  thus  furnished  by  induction,  we 
may  now  inquire  whence,  according  to  Aristotle,  are  the  mate- 
rials for  induction  derived  ?  What  is  the  character  of  that  "an- 
terior knowledge  "  which  is  the  basis  of  the  inductive  process  ? 

^  "  Post.  Analytic,"  bk.  i.  ch.  ii. 

^  Ibid.,  bk.  i.  ch.  xviii.;  "  Ethics,"  bk.  vi.  ch.  iii. 

^  **  Post.  Analytic,"  bk.  i.  ch.  xviii. 


398  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

Induction,  says  Aristotle,  is  "  the  progression  from  singulars 
to  universals."*  It  is  an  illation  of  the  universal  from  the  sin- 
gular as  legitimated  by  the  laws  of  thought.  All  knowledge, 
therefore,  begins  with  singulars — that  is,  with  individual  ob- 
jects. Awd  inasmuch  as  all  knowledge  begins  with  "individ- 
ual objects,"  and  as  the  individual  is  constantly  regarded  by 
Aristotle  as  the  "object  of  sense,"  it  is  claimed  that  his  doc- 
trine is  that  all  knowledge  is  derived  from  sensation^  and  that 
science  and  art  result  to  man  {solely)  by  means  of  experience. 
He  is  thus  placed  at  the  head  of  the  empirical  school  of  phi- 
losophy, as  Plato  is  placed  at  the  head  of  the  ideal  school. 

This  classification,  however,  is  based  upon  a  very  superficial 
acquaintance  with  the  philosophy  of  Aristotle  as  a  whole.  The 
practice,  so  commonly  resorted  to,  of  determining  the  character 
of  the  Aristotelian  philosophy  by  the  light  of  one  or  two  pas- 
sages quoted  from  his  "Metaphysics,"  is  unjust  both  to  Aris- 
totle and  to  the  history  of  philosophic  thought.  We  can  not 
expect  to  attain  a  correct  understanding  of  the  views  of  Aris- 
totle concerning  the  sources  and  grounds  of  all  knowledge 
without  some  attention  to  his  psychology.  A  careful  study  of 
his  writings  will  show  that  the  terms  "  sensation"  (aiardrjarig)  and 
"  experience  "  (e/jiTreipia)  are  employed  in  a  much  more  compre- 
hensive sense  than  is  usual  in  modern  philosophic  writings. 

"  Sensation,"  in  its  lowest  form,  is  defined  by  Aristotle  as 
"an  excitation  of  the  soul  through  the  body,"^  and,  in  its  higher 
form,  as  the  excitation  of  the  soul  by  any  object  of  knowledge. 
In  this  latter  form  it  is  used  by  him  as  synonymous  with  "  in- 
tuition," and  embraces  all  immediate  intuitive  perceptions, 
whether  of  sense,  consciousness,  or  reason.  "  The  universe  is 
derived  from  particulars,  therefore  we  ought  to  have  a  sensible 
perception  (aiadrjaig)  of  these ;  and  this  is  intellect  (vovg)."^ 
Intelligence  proper,  the  faculty  of  first  principles,  is,  in  certain 
respects,  a  sense,  because  it  is  the  source  of  a  class  of  truths 
which,  like  the  perceptions  of  the  senses,  are  immediately  re- 

*  "  Post.  Analytic,"  bk.  i.  ch.  xviii.  ^  "  De  Somn.,"  bk.  i. 

^  "  Ethics,"  bk.  vi.  ch.  xi.;  see  also  ch.  vi. 


GREEK  FHILOSOPHT.  399 

vealed  as  facts,  to  be  received  upon  their  own  evidence.  It 
thus  answers  to  the  "  sensus  communis "  of  Cicero,  and  the 
"  Common  Sense  "  of  the  Scottish  school.  Under  this  aspect, 
"  Sense  is  equal  to  or  has  the  force  of  Science."^  The  term 
"  Experience  "  is  also  used  to  denote,  not  merely  the  perception 
and  remembrance  of  the  impressions  which  external  objects 
make  upon  the  mind,  but  as  co-extensive  with  the  whole  con- 
tents of  consciousness — all  that  the  mind  does  of  its  own  native 
energy,  as  well  as  all  that  it  suffers  from  without.  It  is  evi- 
dently used  in  the  Posterior  Analytic  (bk.  ii.  ch.  xix.)  to  de- 
scribe the  whole  process  by  which  the  knowledge  of  universals 
is  obtained.  "From  experience,  or  from  every  universal  re- 
maining in  the  soul,  the  principles  of  art  and  science  arise." 
The  office  of  experience  is  "to  furnish  the  principles  of  every 
science"^ — that  is,  to  evoke  them  into  energy  in  the  mind. 
"  Experience  thus  seems  to  be  a  thing  almost  similar  to  science 
and  art."'  In  the  most  general  sense,  "sensation"  would  thus 
appear  to  be  the  immediate  perception  or  intuition  of  facts  and 
principles,  and  "  experience "  the  operation  of  the  mind  upon 
these  facts  and  principles,  elaborating  them  into  scientific  form 
according  to  its  own  inherent  laws.  The  "experience"  of  Aris- 
totle is  analogous  to  the  "  reflection  "  of  Locke. 

So  much  being  premised,  we  proceed  to  remark  that  there 
is  a  distinction  perpetually  recurring  in  the  writings  of  Aristotle 
between  the  elements  or  first  principles  of  knowledge  which 
are  "clearest  in  their  own  nature"  and  those  which  "are 
clearest  to  our  perception."*  The  causes  or  principles  of 
knowledge  "  are  prior  and  more  known  to  us  in  two  ways,  for 
what  is  prior  in  nature  is  not  the  same  as  that  which  is  prior  to 
us,  nor  that  which  is  more  known  (simply  in  itself)  the  same  as 
that  which  is  more  known  to  us.  Now  I  call  things  prior  and 
more  known  to  us,  those  which  are  nearer  to  sense;  and  things 

^  **  De  Cen.  Anim."  ^  "  Prior  Analytic,"  bk.  i.  ch.  xix. 

^  *'  Metaphysics,"  bk.  i.  ch.  i. 

*  "  Ethics,"  bk.  i.  ch.  iv.;  "  Metaphysics,"  bk.  ii.  ch.  i.;  "  Rhetoric,"  bk.  i. 
ch.  ii.;  "  Prior  Analytic,"  bk.  ii.  ch.  xxiii. 


400  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

prior  and  more  known  simply  in  themselves,  those  which  are 
remote  from  sense;  and  those  things  are  most  remote  which  are 
especially  universal,  and  those  nearest  which  are  singular ;  and 
these  are  mutually  opposed."*  Here  we  have  a  distribution  of 
the  first  or  prior  elements  of  knowledge  into  two  fundamentally 
opposite  classes. 

(i.)  The  immediate  or  intuitive  perceptions  of  sense. 

(ii.)  The  immediate  or  intuitive  apperceptions  of  pure  reason. 

The  objects  of  sense -perception  are  external,  individual, 
"  nearest  to  sense,"  and  occasionally  or  contingently  present  to 
sense.  The  objects  of  the  intellect  are  inward,  universal,  and 
the  essential  property  of  the  soul.  They  are  "remote  from 
sense,"  "  prior  by  nature ;"  they  are  "  forms  "  essentially  inher- 
ent in  the  soul  previous  to  experience ;  and  it  is  the  office  of 
experience  to  bring  them  forward  into  the  light  of  conscious- 
ness, or,  in  the  language  of  Aristotle,  "  to  evoke  them  from  po- 
tentiality into  actuality."  And  further,  from  the  "prior"  and 
immediate  intuitions  of  sense  and  intellect,  all  our  secondary, 
our  scientific  and  practical  knowledge  is  drawn  by  logical 
processes. 

The  Aristotelian  distribution  of  the  intellectual  faculties 
corresponds  fully  to  this  division  of  the  objects  of  knowledge. 
The  human  intellect  is  divided  by  Aristotle  into, 

1.  The  Passive  or  Receptive  Intellect  (povg  TradririKog). — Its 
office  is  the  reception  of  sensible  impressions  or  images 
{(pavraap-ara)  and  their  retention  in  the  mind  djunifiri). 
These  sensible  forms  or  images  are  essentially  immaterial. 
"  Each  sensorium  {aiadrjrrjpiov)  is  receptive  of  the  sensible 
quality  without  the  matter,  and  hence  when  the  sensibles 
themselves  are  absent,  sensations  and  (^avraalai  remain."^ 

2.  The  Active  or  Creative  Intellect  {rovg  TroirjTiicog). — This  is 
the  power  or  faculty  which,  by  its  own  inherent  power,  im- 
presses "form"  upon  the  material  of  thought  supplied  by 
sense-perception,  exactly  as  the  First  Cause  combines  it,  in 
the  universe,  with  the  recipient  matter. 

^  "  Post.  Analytic,"  bk.  i.  ch.  ii.  ^  "  De  Anima,"  bk.  iii.  ch.  ii. 


GREEK  rniLOSOPHY. 


401 


"  It  is  necessary,"  says  Aristotle,  "  that  these  two  modes 
should  be  opposed  to  each  other,  as  matter  is  opposed  to  form, 
and  to  all  that  gives  form.  The  receptive  reason,  which  is  as 
matter,  becomes  all  things  by  receiving  their  forms.  The  cre- 
ative reason  gives  existence  to  all  things,  as  light  calls  color 
into  being.  The  creative  reason  transcends  the  body,  being 
capable  of  separation  from  it,  and  from  all  things ;  it  is  an 
everlasting  existence,  incapable  of  being  mingled  with  matter, 
o^  affected  by  it ;  prior,  and  subsequent  to  the  individual  mind. 
The  receptive  reason  is  necessary  to  individual  thought,  but  it 
is  perishable,  and  by  its  decay  all  memory,  and  therefore  indi- 
viduality, is  lost  to  the  higher  and  immortal  reason.'" 

This  "Active  or  Creative  Intellect"  is  again  further  sub- 
divided by  Aristotle — 

1.  The  Scientific  (smcrTrjuoyiKoi')  part — the  "virtue,"  faculty, 
or  "habit  of  principles."  He  also  designates  it  as  the  "place 
of  principles,"  and  further  defines  it  as  the  power  "  which 
apprehends  those  existences  whose  principles  can  not  be 
otherwise  than  they  are" — that  is,  self-evident,  immutable, 
and  necessary  truths'* — the  intuitive  reason. 

2.  The  Reasoning  {XoyiaTitcoy)  part — the  power  by  which 
we  draw  conclusions  from  premises,  and  "  contemplate  con- 
tingent matter"^ — the  discursive  reason. 

The  correlatives  noetic  and  dianoetic,  says  Hamilton,  would 
afford  the  best  philosophic  designation  of  these  two  faculties ; 
the  knowledge  attained  by  the  former  is  an  "  intuitive  princi- 
ple " — a  truth  at  first  hand ;  that  obtained  by  the  latter  is  a 
"  demonstrative  proposition  " — a  truth  at  second  hand. 

The  preceding  notices  of  the  psychology  of  Aristotle  will 
aid  us  materially  in  interpreting  his  remarks  ^^Upon  the  Method 
and  Ha'bits  necessary  to  the  ascertainment  of  Principles. ''^^ 

"  That  it  is  impossible  to  have  scientific  knowledge  through 
demonstration  without  a  knowledge  of  first  immediate  princi- 
ples, has  been  elucidated  before."     This  being  established,  he 

*  "  De  Anima,"  bk.  iii.  ch,  v.  ^«  Ethics,"  bk.  vi.  ch.  i.  »  Ibid. 

*  *'  Post.  Analytic,"  bk.  ii.  ch.  xix.,  the  concluding  chapter  of  the  Organon. 

26 


402  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

proceeds  to  explain  how  that  "  knowledge  of  first,  immediate 
principles  "  is  developed  in  the  mind. 

1.  The  knowledge  of  first  principles  is  attained  by  the  intui- 
tion of  sense — the  immediate  perception  of  external  objects,  as 
the  exciting  or  occasional  cause  of  their  development  in  the  mind. 

"  Now  there  appears  inherent  in  all  animals  an  innate  power 
called  sensible  perception  (aiadrjcrig) ;  but  sense  being  inherent, 
in  some  animals  a  permanency  of  the  sensible  object  is  engen- 
dered, but  in  others  it  is  not  engendered.  Those,  therefore, 
v/herein  the  sensible  object  does  not  remain  have  no  knowl- 
edge without  sensible  perception,  but  others,  when  they  per- 
ceive, retain  one  certain  thing  in  the  soul ; . . . .  with  some,  rea- 
son is  produced  from  the  permanency  (of  the  sensible  impres- 
sion), [as  in  man],  but  in  others  it  is  not  [as  in  the  brute]. 
From  sense,  therefore,  as  we  say,  memory  is  produced,  and 
from  the  repeated  remembrance  of  the  same  thing  we  get  ex- 
perience. . . .  From  experience,  ox  from  every  universal  rejjtaiji- 
ing  in  the  soul — the  one  besides  the  many  which  in  all  of  them 
is  one  and  the  sanie — the  principles  of  art  and  science  arise. 
If  experience  is  conversant  with  generation,  the  principles  of 
art ;  if  with  being,  the  principles  of  science. . . .  Let  us  again 
explain  :  When  one  thing  without  difference  abides,  there  is 
then  the  first  universal  (notion)  [developed]  in  the  soul ;  for 
the  singular  indeed  is  perceived  by  sense,  but  sense  is  [also]  of 
the  imiversaV^ — that  is,  the  universal  is  immanent  in  the  sensi- 
ble object  as  a  property  giving  it  "form."  "It  is  manifest, 
then,  that  primary  things  become  necessarily  known  by  induc- 
tion, for  thus  sensible  perception  produces  [develops  or  evokes] 
the  universal'^ 

2.  The  knowledge  of  first  principles  is  attained  by  the  intui- 
tion of  pure  intellect  (yovq) — that  is,  ^^  intellect  itself  is  the  principle 
of  scie7ice,^^  or,  in  other  words,  intellect  is  the  efficient,  essential 
cause  of  the  knowledge  of  first  principles. 

"  Gf  those  habits  which  are  about  intellect  by  which  we  as- 
certain truth,  some^  are  always  true,  but  others'^  admit  the  false, 
'The  "noetic."  '^  The  "  dianoetic" 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  403 

as  opinion  and  reasoning.  But  science  and  (pure)  intellect  are 
always  true,  and  no  other  kind  of  knowledge,  except  intellect 
[intellectual  intuition],  is  more  accurate  than  science.  And 
since  the  principles  of  demonstration  are  more  known,  and  all 
science  is  connected  with  reason,  there  could  not  be  a  science 
of  principles.  But  since  nothing  can  be  more  true  than  science, 
except  intellect,  intellect  will  belong  to  principles.  From  these 
[considerations]  it  is  evident  that,  as  demonstration  is  not  the 
principle  of  demonstration,  so  neither  is  science  the  principle 
of  science.  If,  then,  we  have  no  other  true  genus  (of  habit)  be- 
sides science,  intellect  will  be  the  principle  of  science ;  it  will  also 
be  the  principle  (or  cause  of  the  knowledge)  of  the  principle." 

The  doctrine  of  Aristotle  regarding  "first  principles"  may 
perhaps  be  summed  up  as  follows :  All  demonstrative  science 
is  based  upon  universals  "prior  in  nature" — that  is,  upon  (i 
priori^  self-evident,  necessary,  and  immutable  principles.  Our 
knowledge  of  these  "first  and  immediate  principles"  is  depend- 
ent primarily  on  intellect  (vovg)  or  intuitive  reason,  and  second- 
arily on  sense,  experience,  and  induction.  Prior  to  experience, 
the  intellect  contains  these  principles  in  itself  potentially,  as 
"  forms,"  "  laws,"  "  habitudes,"  or  "  predicaments  "  of  thought ; 
but  they  can  not  be  "  evoked  into  energy,"  can  not  be  revealed 
in  consciousness,  except  on  condition  of  experience,  and  they 
can  only  be  scientifically  developed  by  logical  abstraction  and 
definition.  The  ultimate  ground  of  all  truth  and  certainty  is 
thus  a  mode  of  our  own  mind,  a  subjective  necessity  of  think- 
ing, and  truth  is  not  in  things,  but  in  our  own  minds. ^  "  Ulti- 
mate knowledge,  as  well  as  primary  knowledge,  the  most  per- 
fect knowledge  which  the  philosopher  can  attain,  as  well  as  the 
point  from  which  he  starts,  is  still  a  proposition.  All  knowl- 
edge seems  to  be  included  under  two  forms — knowledge  t/iat 
it  is  so ;  knowledge  wAy  it  is  so.  Neither  of  these  can,  of 
course,  include  the  knowledge  at  which  Plato  is  aiming — knowl- 
edge which  is  correlated  with  Being — a  knowledge,  not  aboi^t 
things  or  persons,  but  ^them."'* 

*  "  Metaphysics,"  bk.  v.  ch.  iv.     ^  Maurice's  '*  Ancient  Philosophy,"  p.  190. 


404  CHRISTIANITY  AND 


ARISTOTELIAN   THEOLOGY. 

Theoretical  philosophy,  "  the  science  which  has  truth  for  its 
end,"  is  divided  by  Aristotle  into  Physics,  Mathematics,  and 
Theology,  or  the  First  Philosophy,  now  commonly  known  as 
"  Metaphysics,"  because  it  is  beyond  or  above  physics,  and  is 
concerned  with  the  primitive  ground  and  cause  of  all  things/ 

In  the  former  two  we  have  now  no  immediate  interest,  but 
with  Theology,  as  "  the  science  of  the  Divine,"^  the  First  Mov- 
ing Cause^  which  is  the  source  of  all  other  causes,  and  the  orig- 
inal ground  of  all  other  things,  we  are  specially  concerned,  in- 
asmuch as  our  object  is  to  determine,  if  possible,  whether  Greek 
philosophy  exerted  any  influence  upon  Christian  thought,  and 
has  bequeathed  any  valuable  results  to  the  Theology  of  modern 
times. 

"  The  Metaphysics "  of  Aristotle  opens  by  an  enumeration 
of  "  the  principles  or  causes  "^  into  which  all  existences  can  be 
resolved  by  philosophical  analysis.  This  enumeration  is  at 
present  to  be  regarded  as  provisional,  and  in  part  hypothetical 
— a  verbal  generalization  of  the  different  principles  which  seem 
to  be  demanded  to  explain  the  existence  of  a  thing,  or  consti- 
tute it  what  it  is.     These  he  sets  down  as — 

I.  The  Material  Cause  (rrjp  vXr]v  koi  to  vTcoKzifXEvo^') — the  mat- 
ter and  subject — that  out  of  w^hich.  a  given  thing  has  been  orig- 
inated. "  From  the  analogy  which  this  principle  has  to  wood 
or  stone,  or  any  actual  matter  out  of  which  a  work  of  nature 

^  "  Physics  are  concerned  with  things  which  have  a  principle  of  motion 
in  themselves  ;  mathematics  speculate  on  permanent,  but  not  transcenden- 
tal and  self-existent  things ;  and  there  is  another  science  separate  from 
these  two,  which  treats  of  that  which  is  immutable  and  transcendental,  if 
indeed  there  exists  such  a  substance,  as  we  shall  endeavor  to  show  that 
there  does.  This  transcendental  and  permanent  substance,  if  it  exist  at  all, 
must  surely  be  the  sphere  of  the  divi7ie — it  must  be  the  first  and  highest 
principle.  Hence  it  follows  that  there  are  three  kinds  of  speculative  sci- 
ence— Physics,  Mathematics,  and  Theology." — **  Metaphysics,"  bk.  x.  ch.  vii. 

*  "  Metaphysics,"  bk.  i.  ch.  ii. 

^  AItiov — cause — is  here  used  by  Aristotle  in  the  sense  of  "account  of" 
or  "reason  why." 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  405 

or  of  art  is  produced,  the  name  '  material '  is  assigned  to  this 
class."  It  does  not  always  necessarily  mean  "matter"  in  the 
now  common  use  of  the  term,  but  "  antecedents — that  is,  prin- 
ciples whose  inherence  and  priority  is  implied  in  any  existing 
thing,  as,  for  example,  the  premises  of  a  syllogism,  which  are 
the  material  cause  of  the  conclusion."^  With  Aristotle  there 
is,  therefore,  "matter  as  an  object  of  sense,"  and  "matter  as 
an  object  of  thought." 

2.  The Forfnal  Cause  {ty]v  ovalav  koli  to  ti  7]v  sirai) — the  being 
or  abstract  essence  of  a  thing — that  primary  nature  on  which 
all  its  properties  depend.  To  this  Aristotle  gave  the  name  of 
eUoc — the  form  or  exemplar  according  to  which  a  thing  is  pro- 
duced. 

3.  The  Moving  or  Efficient  Cause  (odev  /;  apxri  rrjQ  kivi]<te(i)q) — 
the  origin  and  principle  of  motion — that  by  which  a  thing  is 
produced. 

4.  The  Fi?tal  Cause  (to  ov  ev£Kev  mt  to  ayadoy) — the  good 
end  answered  by  the  existence  of  any  thing — that  for  the  sake 
of  which  any  thing  is  produced — the  'kviKa  tov,  or  reason  for  it.^ 
Thus,  for  instance,  in  a  house,  the  wood  out  of  which  it  is  pro- 
duced is  the  matter  (vXr]),  the  idea  or  conception  according  to 
which  it  is  produced  is  the  form  (elhg — fiopcpl]),  the  builder  who 
erects  the  house  is  the  efficient  cause,  and  the  reason  for  its  pro- 
duction, or  the  end  of  its  existence  is  \h.e  final  cause. 

Causes  are,  therefore,  the  elements  into  which  the  mind  re- 
solves its  first  rough  conception  of  an  object.  That  object 
is  what  it  is,  by  reason  of  the  matter  out  of  which  it  sprang, 
the  moving  cause  which  gave .  it  birth,  the  idea  or  form  which 
it  realizes,  and  the  end  or  object  which  it  attains.  The  knowl- 
edge of  a  thing  implies  knowing  it  from  these  four  points  of 
view-^that  is,  knowing  its  four  causes  or  principles. 

These  four  determinations  of  being  are,  on  a  further  and 
closer   analysis,  resolved  into  the   fundamental  antithesis  of^ 

MATTER  and  FORM. 

^  Encyclopaedia  Britannica,  article  "Aristotle;"  "Post.  Analytic,"  bk.  ii. 
ch.  xi.  ^  "  Metaphysics,"  bk.  i.  ch.  iii. 


4o6  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

"All  things  that  are  produced,"  says  Aristotle,^  "are  pro- 
duced from  something  (that  is,  from  matter),hY  something  (that 
\%fori7i)j  and  become  something  (the  totality — to  avvoKov) ;"  as, 
for  example,  a  statue,  a  plant,  a  man.  To  every  subject  there 
belongs,  therefore,  first,  matter  {yXi]);  secondly, /^r;;^  {juopp)). 
The  synthesis  of  these  two  produces  and  constitutes  substance^ 
or  ova'ta.  Matter  and  form  are  thus  the  two  grand  causes  or 
principles  whence  proceed  all  things.  The  formative  cause  is, 
at  the  same  time,  the  moving  cause  and  the  final  cause ;  for 
it  is  evidently  the  element  of  determination  which  impresses 
movement  upon  matter  whilst  determining  it ;  and  it  is  also 
the  end  of  being,  since  being  only  really  exists  when  it  has 
passed  from  an  indeterminate  to  a  determinate  state. 

In  proof  that  the  dloq  or  form  is  an  efficient  principle  operat- 
ing in  every  object,  which  makes  it,  to  our  conception,  what  it 
is,  Aristotle  brings  forward  the  subject  of  generation  or  produc- 
tion.^ There  are  three  modes  of  production — natural,  artifi- 
cial, and  automatic.  In  natural  production  we  discern  at  once 
a  matter ;  indeed  Nature,  in  the  largest  sense,  may  be  defined 
as  "that  out  of  which  things  are  produced."  Now  the  result 
formed  out  of  this  matter  or  nature  is  a  given  substance — a 
vegetable,  a  beast,  or  a  man.  But  what  is  the  producing  cause 
in  each  case  ?  Clearly  something  akin  to  the  result.  A  man 
generates  a  man,  a  plant  produces  another  plant  like  to  itself 
There  is,  therefore,  implied  in  the  resulting  thing  2i  productive 
force  distinct  from  matter,  upon  which  it  works.  And  this  is 
the  iiloq,  or  form.  Let  us  now  consider  artificial  production. 
Here  again  the  form  is  the  producing  power.  And  this  is  in 
the  soul.  The  art  of  the  physician  is  the  J^oe,  which  produces 
actual  health ;  the  plan  of  the  architect  is  the  conception,  which 
produces  an  actual  house.  Here,  however,  a  distinction  arises. 
In  these  artificial  productions  there  is  supposed  a  v6r\aic,  and  a 
7roir)(7ig.  The  vorjcrig  is  the  previous  conception  which  the  archi- 
tect forms  in  his  own  mind ;  the  iroirjcriQ  is  the  actual  creation 
of  the  house  out  of  the  given  matter.  In  this  case  the  concep- 
^  **  Metaphysics,"  bk.  vi.  ch.  vii.  ^  Ibid. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  407 

tion  is  the  moving  cause  of  the  production.  The  form  of  the 
statue  in  the  mind  of  the  artist  is  the  motive  or  cause  of  the 
movement  by  which  the  statue  is  produced ;  and  health  must 
be  in  the  thought  of  the  physician  before  it  can  become  the 
moving  cause  of  the  healing  art.  Moreover,  that  which  is  true 
of  artificial  production  or  change  is  also  true  of  spontaneous 
production.  For  example,  a  cure  may  take  place  by  the  appli- 
cation of  warmth,  and  this  result  is  accomplished  by  means  of 
friction.  This  warmth  in  the  body  is  either  itself  a  portion  of 
health,  or  something  is  consequent  upon  it  which  is  like  itself, 
which  is  a  portion  of  health.  Evidently  this  implies  the  pre- 
vious presence  either  of  nature  or  of  an  artificer.  It  is  also 
clearly  evident  that  this  kind  of  generating  influence  (the  auto- 
matic) should  combine  with  another.  There  must  be  a  pro- 
ductive power,  and  there  must  be  something  out  of  which  it 
is  produced.     In  this  case,  then,  there  will  be  a  v\r]  and  an 

From  the  above  it  appears  that  the  efficicfit  cause  is  regarded 
by  Aristotle  as  identical  with  XhQ  formal  cause.  So  also  the 
Jinal  cause — the  end  for  the  sake  of  which  any  thing  exists — 
can  hardly  be  separated  from  the  perfection  of  that  thing,  that 
is,  from  its  conception  or  form.  The  desire  for  the  end  gives 
the  first  impulse  of  motion ;  thus  the  final  cause  of  any  thing 
becomes  identical  with  the  good  of  that  thing.  "  The  moving 
cause  of  the  house  is  the  builder,  but  the  moving  cause  of  the 
builder  is  the  end  to  be  attained — that  is,  the  house."  From 
such  examples  as  these  it  would  seem  that  the  determinations 
of  form  and  end  are  considered  by  Aristotle  as  one,  in  so  far 
as  both  are  merged  in  the  conception  oi  actuality ;  for  he  re- 
garded the  end  of  every  thing  to  be  its  completed  being — the 
perfect  realization  of  its  idea  or  form.  The  only  fundamental 
determinations,  therefore,  which  can  not  be  wholly  resolved 
into  each  other  are  matter  2Xidi  form? 

The  opposition  of  matter  and  form,  with  Aristotle,  corre- 

^  Maurice's  "Ancient  Philosophy,"  pp.  205,  206. 

^  Schwegler's  "  History  of  Philosophy,"  pp.  120,  123. 


4o8  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

sponds  to  the  opposition  between  the  element  oi  generality  and 
the  element  oi particularity.  Matter  is  indeterminate  ;  form  is 
determinate.  Matter,  abstracted  from  form,  in  thought,  is  en- 
tirely without  predicate  and  distinction ;  form  is  that  which 
enters  into  the  definition  of  every  subject,  and  without  which  it 
could  not  be  defined.  Matter  is  capable  of  the  widest  diver- 
sity of  forms,  but  is  itself  without  form.  Pure  form  is,  in  fact, 
that  which  is  without  matter,  or,  in  other  words,  it  is  the  pure 
conception  of  being.  Matter  is  the  necessary  condition  of  the 
existence  of  a  thing ;  form  is  the  essence  of  each  thing,  that  in 
virtue  of  which  substance  is  possible,  and  without  which  it  is 
inconceivable.  On  the  one  side  is  passivity,  possibility  of  ex- 
istence, capacity  of  action ;  on  the  other  side  is  activity,  actu- 
ality, thought.  The  unity  of  these  two  in  the  realm  of  deter- 
mined being  constitutes  every  individual  substance.  The  rela- 
tion of  matter  and  form,  logically  apprehended,  is  thus  the  rela- 
tion of  POTENTIALITY  and  ACTUALITY. 

This  is  a  further  and  indeed  a  most  important  step  in  the 
Aristotelian  theology.  Matter,  as  we  have  seen,  after  all, 
amounts  to  merely  capacity  for  action,  and  if  we  can  not  dis- 
cover some  productive  power  to  develop  potentiality  into  actu- 
ality, we  look  in  vain  for  some  explanation  of  the  phenomena 
around  us.  The  discovery,  however,  of  energy  {kvipyeia),  as  a 
principle  of  this  description,  is  precisely  what  we  wanted,  and  a 
momentary  glance  at  the  actual  phenomena  will  show  its  per- 
fect identity  with  the  el^oc,  or  form.'  "  For  instance,  what  is  a 
calm  ?  It  is  evenness  in  the  surface  of  the  sea.  Here  the  sea 
is  the  subject,  that  is,  the  matter  in  capacity ^  but  the  evenness 
is  the  energy  or  actuality; . . . .  energy  is  thus  as  form.'"  The 
form  (or  idea)  is  thus  an  energy  or  actuality  (u-epyeia);  the 

*  "  That  which  Aristotle  calls  *  form '  is  not  to  be  confounded  with  what 
we  may  perhaps  call  shape  [or  figure] ;  a  hand  severed  from  the  arm,  for 
instance,  has  still  the  outward  shape  of  a  hand,  but,  according  to  Aristo- 
telian apprehension,  it  is  only  a  hand  now  as  to  matter,  and  not  as  to  form  : 
an  actual  hand,  a  hand  as  to  form,  is  only  that  which  can  do  the  proper 
work  of  a  hand." — Schwegler's  "  History  of  Philosophy,"  p.  122. 

"  "  Metaphysics,"  bk.  vii.  ch.  ii. 


GREEK  PHIL 0 SOPHY, 


409 


matter  is  a  capacity  or  potentiality  (cvvafxig),  requiring  the  co- 
operation of  the  energy  to  produce  a  result. 

^hese  terms,  which  are  first  employed  by  Aristotle  in  their 
philosophical  signification,  are  characteristic  of  his  whole  sys- 
tem. It  is,  therefore,  important  we  should  grasp  their  precise 
philosophical  import;  and  this  can  only  be  done  by  considering 
them  in  the  strictest  relation  to  each  other.  It  is  in  this  rela- 
tion they  are  defined  by  Aristotle.  "  Now  hepyeia  is  the  exist- 
ence of  a  thing  not  in  the  sense  of  its  potentially  existing. 
The  term  potentially  we  use,  for  instance,  of  the  statue  in  the 
block,  and  of  the  half  in  the  whole  (since  it  may  be  subtracted), 
and  of  a  person  knowing  a  thing,  even  when  he  is  not  thinking 
of  it,  but  might  be  so ;  whereas  evepyeia  is  the  opposite.  By 
applying  the  various  instances  our  meaning  will  be  plain,  and 
one  must  not  seek  a  definition  in  each  case,  but  rather  grasp 
the  conception  of  the  analogy  as  a  whole, — that  it  is  as  that 
which  builds  to  that  which  has  a  capacity  for  building ;  as  the 
waking  to  the  sleeping ;  as  that  which  sees  to  that  which  has 
sight,  but  whose  eyes  are  closed ;  as  the  definite  form  to  the 
shapeless  matter ;  as  the  complete  to  the  unaccomplished.  In 
this  contrast,  let  the  evepyeia  be  set  off  as  forming  the  one  side, 
and  on  the  other  let  the  potential  stand.  Things  are  said  to 
be  in  evepyeia  not  always  in  like  manner  (except  so  far  as  there 
is  an  analogy,  that  as  this  thing  is  in  this,  and  related  to  this, 
so  is  that  in  that,  or  related  to  that) ;  for  sometimes  it  implies 
motion  as  opposed  to  the  capacity  of  motion^  and  sometimes  com- 
plete existence  opposed  to  undeveloped  matter. ^'''^  As  the  term 
^vvafiiQ  has  the  double  meaning  of  "possibility  of  existence  "  as 
well  as  "capacity  of  action,'^  so  there  is  the  double  contrast  of 
"actio7i"  as  opposed  to  the  capacity  of  action ;  and  "  actual  exist- 
ence^^ opposed  to  possible  existence  or  potentiality.  To  express 
accurately  this  latter  antithesis,  Aristotle  introduced  the  term 
evTeke^eia — entelechy,  of  which  the  most  natural  account  is 
that  it  is  a  compound  of  ev  riXei  ex^Lv — "being  in  a  state  of 

^  "  Metaphysics,"  bk.  viii.  ch.  vi. 

"^  "  Entelechy  indicates  the  perfected  act,  the  completely  actual." — Schw. 


41  o  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

perfection.'"  This  term,  however,  rarely  occurs  in  the  "  Meta- 
physics," whilst  eyipyeia  is  everywhere  employed,  not  only  to 
express  activity  as  opposed  to  passivity,  but  complete  existence 
as  opposed  to  undeveloped  matter. 

"  In  Physics  tvvajdig  answers  to  the  necessary  conditions  for 
the  existence  of  any  thing  before  that  thing  exists.  It  thus 
corresponds  to  vXr],  both  to  the  Trpwrtj  vXr) — the  first  matter,  or 
matter  devoid  of  all  qualities,  which  is  capable  of  becoming 
any  definite  substance,  as,  for  example,  marble;  and  also  to 
the  Effxcirrj  vXrj — or  matter  capable  of  receiving  form,  as  marble 
the  form  of  the  statue."  Marble  then  exists  potentially  in  the 
simple  elements  before  it  is  marble.  The  statue  exists  poten- 
tially in  the  marble  before  it  is  carved.  All  objects  of  thought 
exist,  either  purely  in  potentiality,  or  purely  in  actuality,  or 
both  in  potentiality  and  in  actuality.  This  division  makes  an 
entire  chain  of  all  existence.  At  the  one  end  is  matter,  the 
TTpwrr]  iiXri  which  has  a  merely  potential  existence,  which  is 
necessary  as  a  condition,  but  which  having  no  form  and  no 
qualities,  is  totally  incapable  of  being  realized  by  the  mind. 
At  the  other  end  of  the  chain  is  pure  form,  which  is  not  at  all 
matter,  the  absolute  and  the  unconditioned,  the  eternal  sub- 
stance and  energy  without  matter  (ovma  aidiog  koI  kvipyeia  avev 
cvvafieiOQ),  who  can  not  be  thought  as  non-existing — the  self- 
existent  God.  Between  these  two  extremes  is  the  whole  row 
of  creatures,  which  out  of  potentiality  evermore  spring  into 
actual  being. '^ 

The  relation  of  actuality  to  potentiality  is  the  subject  of  an 
extended  and  elaborate  discussion  in  book  viii.,  the  general  re- 
sults of  which  may  be  summed  up  in  the  following  proposi- 
tions : 

I.  T/ie  relation  of  Actuality  to  Potentiality  is  as  the  Perfect  to 
the  Imperfect. — The  progress  from  potentiality  to  actuality  is 
motion  or  production  (di'r](Tir  or  yivearig).  But  this  motion  is 
transitional,  and  in  itself  imperfect — it  tends  towards  an  end, 
but  does  not  include  the  end  in  itself    But  actuality,  if  it  implies 

^  Grant's  Aristotle's  "Ethics,"  vol.  i.  p.  184.  ^  Id.,  ib.,  vol.  i.  p.  185. 


OREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  41I 

motion,  has  an  end  in  itself  and  for  itself;  it  is  a  motion  desir- 
able for  its  own  sake.'  The  relation  of  the  potential  to  the 
actual  Aristotle  exhibits  by  the  relation  of  the  unfinished  to 
the  finished  work,  of  the  unemployed  builder  to  the  one  at 
work  upon  his  building,  of  the  seed-corn  to  the  tree,  of  the  man 
who  has  the  capacity  to  think,  to  the  man  actually  engaged  in 
thought.^  Potentially  the  seed-corn  is  the  tree,  but  the  grown- 
up tree  is  the  actuality ;  the  potential  philosopher  is  he  who  is 
not  at  this  moment  in  a  philosophic  condition ;  indeed,  every 
thing  is  potential  which  possesses  a  principle  of  development, 
or  of  change.  Actuality  or  entelechy,  on  the  other  hand,  indi- 
cates the  perfect  act^  the  end  gained,  the  completed  actual ;  that 
activity  in  which  the  act  and  the  completeness  of  the  act  fall 
together — as,  for  example,  to  see,  to  think,  where  the  acting 
and  the  completed  act  are  one  and  the  same. 

2.  The  Relation  of  Actuality  to  Potentiality  is  a  causal  Rela- 
tion.— A  thing  which  is  endued  with  a  simple  capacity  of  being 
may  nevertheless  not  actually  exist,  and  a  thing  may  have  a 
capacity  of  being  and  really  exist.  Since  this  is  the  case,  there 
must  ensue  between  non-being  and  real  being  some  such  prin- 
ciple as  energy^  in  order  to  account  for  the  transition  or  change.' 
Energy  has  here  some  analogy  to  motion,  though  it  must  not 
be  confounded  with  motion.  Now  you  can  not  predicate  either 
motion  or  energy  of  things  which  are  not.  The  moment  energy 
is  added  to  them  they  are.  This  transition  from  potentiality 
to  actuality  must  be  through  the  medium  of  such  principles  as 
propension  or  free  will.,  because  propension  or  free  will  possess 
in  themselves  the  power  of  originating  motion  in  other  things." 

3.  The  Relation  of  Actuality  and  Potentiality  is  a  Relation  of 
Priority. — Actuality,  says  Aristotle,  is  prior  to  potentiality  in 
the  order  of  reason,  in  the  order  of  substance,  and  also  (though 
not  invariably)  in  the  order  of  time.  The  first  of  all  capacities 
is  a  capacity  of  energizing  or  assuming  a  state  of  activity ;  for 
example,  a  man  who  has  the  capacity  of  building  is  one  who  is 

'  "  Metaphysics,"  bk.  viii.  ch.  vi.  ^  Ibid.,  bk.  viii.  ch.  vi. 

^  Ibid.,  bk.  viii.  ch.  iii.  •*  Ibid.,  bk.  viii.  ch.  v. 


■I 


412  CHBISTIAXITY  AND 


skilled  in  building,  and  thus  able  to  use  his  energy  in  the  art 
of  building.^  The  primary  energizing  power  must  precede  that 
which  receives  the  impression  of  it,  Form  being  older  than 
Matter.  But  if  you  take  the  case  of  any  particular  person  or 
thing,  we  say  that  its  capacity  of  being  that  particular  person 
or  thing  precedes  its  being  so  actually.  Yet,  though  this  is  the 
case  in  each  particular  thing,  there  is  always  a  foregone  energy 
presumed  in  some  other  thing  (as  a  prior  seed,  plant,  man)  to 
which  it  owes  its  existence.  One  pregnant  thought  presents 
itself  in  the  course  of  the  discussion  which  has  a  direct  bearing 
upon  our  subject.  Avva/jLig  has  been  previously  defined  as  "a 
principle  of  motion  or  change  in  another  thing  in  so  far  forth  as 
it  is  another  thing  '"^ — that  is,  it  is  fitted  by  nature  to  have  mo- 
tioniimparted  to  it,  and  to  communicate  motion  to  something 
else.  But  this  motion  wants  a  resting-place.  There  can  be 
no  infinite  regression  of  causes.  There  is  some  primary  hvpajjLic 
presupposed  in  all  others,  which  is  the  beginning  of  change. 
This  is  (j)v(ng,  or  nature.  But  the  first  and  original  cause  of  all 
motion  and  change  still  precedes  and  surpasses  nature.  The 
final  cause  of  all  potentiality  is  energy  or  actuality.  The  one 
proposed  is  prior  to  the  means  through  which  the  end  is  ac- 
complished. A  process  of  actualization,  a  tendency  towards 
completeness  or  perfection  (riXoc)  presupposes  an  absolute 
actuality  which  is  at  once  its  beginning  and  end.  "  One  ener- 
gy is  invariably  antecedent  to  another  in  time,  up  to  that  which 
is  primarily  and  eternally  the  Moving  Cause. "^ 

And  now  having  laid  down  these  fundamental  principles 
of  metaphysical  science,  as  preparatory  to  Theology,  Aristotle 
proceeds  to  establish  the  conception  of  the  Absolute  or  Di- 
vine Spirit  as  the  eternal^  iminutable  Substance^  the  immate7'ial 
E7iergy,  the  unchangeable  Form  of  Forms  ^  the  first  moving  Cause. 

I.  The  Ontological  Form  of  Proof . — It  is  necessary  to  con- 
ceive an  eternal  and  immutable  substance — an  actuality  which 
is  absolute  and  prior,  both  logically  and  chronologically,  to  all 

^  "  Metaphysics,"  bk.  viii.  ch.  viii.  "^  Ibid.,  bk.  iv.  ch.  xii. 

^  Ibid.,  bk,  viii.  ch.  viii. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  413 

potentiality ;  for  that  which  is  potential  is  simply  contingent, 
it  may  just  as  easily  not  be  as  be ;  that  which  exists  only  in 
capacity  is  temporal  and  corruptible,  and  may  cease  to  be. 
Matter  we  know  subsists  merely  in  capacity  and  passivity,  and 
without  the  operation  of  Energy  (hipyeia),  or  the  formative 
cause,  would  be  to  us  as  nonentity.  The  phenomena  of  the 
world  exhibits  to  us  the  presence  of  Energy,  and  energy  pre- 
supposes the  existence  of  an  eternal  substance.  Furthermore, 
matter  and  potentiality  are  convertible  terms,  therefore  the  pri- 
mal Energy  or  Actuality  must  be  immaterial.^ 

2.  The  Cosmological  Form  of  Proof. — It  is  impossible  that 
there  should  be  motiofi,  genesis,  or  a  chain  of  causes,  except  on 
the  assumption  of  a  first  Moving  Cause,  since  that  which  ex- 
ists only  in  capacity  can  not,  of  itself  energize,  and  conse- 
quently without  a  principle  of  motion  which  is  essentially  ac- 
tive, we  have  only  a  principle  of  immobility.  The  principle 
"  ex  nihilo  nihil "  forbids  us  to  assume  that  motion  can  arise 
out  of  immobility,  being  out  of  non-being.  "  How  can  matter 
be  put  in  motion  if  nothing  that  subsists  in  energ}'-  exist,  and 
is  its  cause?"  All  becoming,  therefore,  necessarily  supposes 
that  which  has  not  become,  that  which  is  eternally  self-active 
as  the  principle  and  cause  of  all  motion.  There  is  no  refuge 
from  the  notion  that  all  things  are  "  born  of  night  and  nothing- 
ness "  except  in  this  belief.'^ 

The  existence  of  an  eternal  principle  subsisting  in  energy 
is  also  demanded  to  explain  the  order  of  the  world.  "  For 
how,  let  me  ask,  will  there  prevail  order  on  the  supposition 
that  there  is  no  subsistence  of  that  which  is  eternal,  and  which 
involves  a  separable  existence,  and  is  permanent."'  "  All 
things  in  nature  are  constituted  in  the  best  possible  manner."* 
All  things  strive  after  "  the  good."  "  The  appearance  of  ends 
and  means  in  nature  is  a  proof  of  design."^  Now  an  end  or 
final  cause  presupposes  intelligence, — implies  a  mijid  to  see 

^  "  Metaphysics,"  bk.  xi.  ch.  vi.  "^  Ibid.,  bk.  xi.  ch.  vii.,  viii. 

'  Ibid.,  bk.  X.  ch.  ii.  "  «  Ethics,"  bk.  i.  ch.  ix. 

*  "  Nat.  Ausc,"  bk.  ii.  ch.  viii. 


414  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

and  desire  it.  That  which  is  "  fair,"  "  beautiful,"  "  good,"  an 
"object  of  desire,"  can  only  be  perceived  by  Mind.  The 
"  final  cause  "  must  therefore  subsist  in  that  which  is  prior  and 
immovable  and  eternal ;  and  Mmd  is  "  that  substance  which 
subsists  absolutely,  and  according  to  energy."^  "The  First 
Mover  of  all  things,  moves  all  things  without  being  moved, 
being  an  eternal  substance  and  energy ;  and  he  moves  all 
things  as  the  object  of  reason  and  of  desire,  or  love."^ 

3.  The  Moral  Form  of  Proof . — So  far  as  the  relation  of  po- 
tentiality and  actuality  is  identical  with  the  relation  of  matter 
and  form,  the  argument  for  the  existence  of  God  may  be  thus 
presented  :  The  conception  of  an  absolute  matter  without  form, 
involves  the  supposition  of  an  absolute  form  without  matter. 
And  since  the  conception  of  form  resolves  itself  into  motion, 
conception,  purpose  or  end,  so  the  Eternal  One  is  the  absolute 
principle  of  motion  (the  Trpwrov  kivovv),  the  absolute  conception 
or  pure  intelligence  (the  pure  tL  7]v  elvai),  and  the  absolute 
ground,  reason,  or  end  of  all  being.  All  the  other  predicates 
of  the  First  Cause  follow  from  the  above  principles  with  logical 
necessity. 

(i.)  Ife  is,  of  course,  pure  intellect,  because  he  is  absolutely 
immaterial  and  free  from  nature.  He  is  active  intelligence, 
because  his  essence  is  pure  actuality.  He  is  self-contempla- 
ting and  self-conscious  intelligence,  because  the  divine  thought 
can  not  attain  its  actuality  in  any  thing  extrinsic ;  it  would  de- 
pend on  something  else  than  self — some  potential  existence 
for  its  actualization.  Hence  the  famous  definition  of  the  ab- 
solute as  "the  thought  of  thought"  {y6r](nq  voijaeiog).^  "And 
therefore  the  first  and  actual  perception  by  mind  of  Mind  it- 
self, doth  subsist  in  this  way  throughout  all  eternity."* 

(ii.)  He  is  also  essential  life.  "The  principle  of  life  is  inher- 
ent in  the  Deity,  for  the  energy  or  active  exercise  of  mind 
constitutes  life,  and  God  constitutes  this  energy ;  and  essential 

*  "  Metaphysics,"  bk.  xi.  ch.  vii.  ^  Ibid. 
^  Schwegler's  "  History  of  Philosophy,"  p.  125. 

*  "  Metaphysics,"  bk.  xi.  ch.  i.x. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  415 

energy  belongs  to  God  as  his  best  and  everlasting  life.  Now 
our  statement  is  this — that  the  Deity  is  a  living  being  that  is 
everlasting  and  most  excellent  in  nature,  so  that  with  the  Deity 
life  and  duration  are  uninterrupted  and  eternal ;  for  this  con- 
stitutes the  essence  of  God."^ 

(iii.)  Unity  belongs  to  him,  since  multiplicity  implies  matter ; 
and  the  highest  idea  or  form  of  the  world  must  be  absolutely 
immaterial.^  The  Divine  nature  is  "  devoid  of  parts  and  indi- 
visible, for  magnitude  can  not  in  any  way  involve  this  Divine 
nature ;  for  God  imparts  motion  through  infinite  duration,  and 
nothing  finite — as  magnitude  is — can  be  possessed  of  an  infi- 
nite capacity."^ 

(iv.)  He  is  immovable  and  ever  abideth  the  same;  since  other- 
wise he  could  not  be  the  absolute  mover,  and  the  cause  of  all 
becoming,  if  he  were  subject  to  change.*  God  is  impassive 
and  unalterable  (a7ra0>7c  »cai  avaXXotWov)  j  for  all  such  notions 
as  are  involved  in  passion  or  alteration  are  outside  the  sphere 
of  the  Divine  existence.^ 

(v.)  He  is  the  ever-blessed  God. — "The  life  of  God  is  of  a 
kind  with  those  highest  moods  which,  with  us,  last  a  brief  space, 
it  being  impossible  they  should  be  permanent ;  whereas,  with 
Him  they  are  permanent,  since  His  ever-present  consciousness 
is  pleasure  itself.  And  it  is  because  they  are  vivid  states  of 
consciousness,  that  waking,  and  perception,  and  thought,  are 
the  sweetest  of  all  things.     Now  essential  perception   is  the 

perception  of  that  which  is  most  excellent, and  the  mind 

perceives  itself  by  participating  of  its  own  object  of  perception ; 
but  it  is  a  sort  of  coalescence  of  both  that,  in  the  Divine  Mind, 
creates  a  regular  identity  between  the  two,  so  that  with  God 
both  (the  thinker  and  the  thought,  the  subject  and  object)  are 
the  same.  In  possession  of  this  prerogative.  He  subsists  in 
the  exercise  of  energy ;  and  the  contemplation  of  his  own  per- 
fections is  what,  to  God,  must  be  most  agreeable  and  excellent. 
This  condition  of  existence,  after  so  excellent  a  manner,  is  what 

^  "  Metaphysics,"  bk.  xi.  ch.  vii.         ^  Ibid.  ^  Ibid. 

*  Ibid.,  bk.  xi.  ch.  viii.  '  Ibid.,  bk.  xi.  ch.  vii. 


41 6  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

is  "  so  astonishing  to  us  when  we  examine  God's  nature,  and  the 
more  we  do  so  the  more  wonderful  that  nature  appears  to  us. 
The  mood  of  the  Divine  existence  is  essential  energy,  and,  as 
such,  it  is  a  life  that  is  most  excellent,  blessed,  and  everlasting."^ 

The  theology  of  Aristotle  may  be  summed  up  in  the  follow- 
ing sentences  selected  from  book  xi.  of  his  "  Metaphysics  :" 

"  This  motionless  cause  of  motion  is  a  necessary  being ;  and, 
by  virtue  of  such  necessity,  is  the  all-perfect  being.  This  all- 
pervading  principle  penetrates  heaven  and  all  nature.  It  eter- 
nally possesses  perfect  happiness;  and  its  happiness  is  in 
action.  This  primal  mover  is  immaterial ;  for  its  essence  is 
in  energy.  It  is  pure  thought — thought  thinking  itself — the 
thought  of  thought.  The  activity  of  pure  intelligence — such  is 
the  perfect,  eternal  life  of  God.  This  primal  cause  of  change, 
this  absolute  perfection,  moves  the  world  by  the  universal  de- 
sire for  the  absolute  good,  by  the  attraction  exercised  upon  it  by 
the  Eternal  Mind — the  serene  energy  of  Divine  Intelligence." 

It  can  not  be  denied  that,  so  far  as  it  goes,  this  conception 
of  the  Deity  is  admirable,  worthy,  and  just.  Viewed  from  a 
Christian  stand-point,  we  at  once  concede  that  it  is  essentially 
defective.  There  is  no  clear  and  distinct  recognition  of  God 
as  Creator  and  Governor  of  the  universe  ;  he  is  chiefly  regarded 
as  the  Life  of  the  universe — the  Intellect,  the  Energy — that 
which  gives  excellence,  and  perfection,  and  gladness  to  the 
whole  system  of  things.  The  Theology  of  Aristotle  is,  in  fact, 
metaphysical  rather  than  practical.  He  does  not  contemplate 
the  Deity  as  a  moral  Governor.  Whilst  Plato  speaks  of  "be- 
ing made  like  God  through  becoming  just  and  holy,"  Aristotle 
asserts  that  "  all  moral  virtues  are  totally  unworthy  of  being 
ascribed  to  God."''  He  is  not  the  God  of  providence.  He 
dwells  alone,  supremely  indifferent  to  human  cares,  and  inter- 
ests, and  sorrows.  He  takes  no  cognizance  of  individual  men, 
and  holds  no  intercourse  with  man.  The  God  of  Aristotle  is 
not  a  being  that  meets  and  satisfies  the  wants  of  the  human 
heart,  however  well  it  may  meet  the  demands  of  the  reason. 
'  "  Metaphysics,"  bk.  xi.  ch.  vii.  ^  **  Ethics,"  bk.  x.  ch.  viii. 


GREEK  PHILO SOPHY. 


417 


Morality  has  no  basis  in  the  Divine  nature,  no  eternal  type  in 
the  perfections  and  government  of  God,  and  no  supports  and 
aids  from  above.  The  theology  of  Aristotle  foreshadows  the 
character  of  the 

ARISTOTELIAN  ETHICS. 

We  do  not  find  in  Aristotle  any  distinct  recognition  of  an 
eternal  and  immutable  morality,  an  absolute  right,  which  has 
its  foundation  in  the  nature  of  God.  Plato  had  taught  that 
there  was  "  an  absolute  Good,  above  and  beyond  all  existence 
in  dignity  and  power ;"  which  is,  in  fact,  "  the  cause  of  all  exist- 
ence and  all  knowledge,"  and  which  is  God;  that  all  other 
things  are  good  in  proportion  as  they  "  partake  of  this  absolute 
Good ;"  and  that  all  men  are  so  far  good  as  they  "  resemble 
God."  But  with  this  position  Aristotle  joins  issue.  After 
stating  the  doctrine  of  Plato  in  the  following  words — "  Some 
have  thought  that,  besides  all  these  manifold  goods  upon  earth, 
there  is  some  absolute  good,  which  is  the  cause  to  all  these  of 
their  being  good" — he  proceeds  to  criticise  that  idea,  and 
concludes  his  argument  by  saying — "we  must  dismiss  the 
idea  at  present,  for  if  there  is  any  one  good,  universal  and 
generic,  or  transcendental  and  absolute,  it  obviously  can  never 
be  realized  nor  possessed  by  man ;  whereas  something  of  this 
latter  kind  is  what  we  are  inquiring  after."  He  follows  up 
these  remarks  by  saying  that  "  Perhaps  the  knowledge  of  the 
idea  may  be  regarded  by  some  as  useful,  as  a  pattern  (Trapa- 
deiyiia)  by  which  to  judge  of  relative  good."  Against  this  he 
argues  that  "  There  is  no  trace  of  the  arts  making  use  of  any 
such  conception ;  the  cobbler,  the  carpenter,  the  physician,  and 
the  general,  all  pursue  their  vocations  without  respect  to  the  ad- 
solute  good,  nor  is  it  easy  to  see  how  they  would  be  benefited  by 
apprehending  it."^  The  good  after  which  Aristotle  would  in- 
quire is,  therefore,  a  relative  good,  since  the  knowledge  of  the 
absolute  good  can  not  possibly  be  realized. 

Instead,  therefore,  of  seeking  to  attain  to  "  a  transcendental 
'  "  Ethics,"  bk.  i.  ch.  vi. 
27 


4i8  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

and  absolute  good  " — a  fundamental  idea  of  right,  which  may 
be  useful  as  a  paradigm  by  which  we  may  judge  of  relative 
good,  he  addresses  himself  solely  to  the  question,  "what  is 
good  for  man  "-—what  is  the  good  attainable  in  action  ?  And 
having  identified  the  Chief  Good  with  the  final  and  perfect  end 
of  all  action,  the  great  question  of  the  Ethics  is,  "  What  is  the 
end  of  human  action  'i  {ti  ean  to  tCjv  7rpaKTu>v  riXoc).^ 

I  Now  an  end  or  final  cause  implies  an  intelligence — implies 
a  mind  to  perceive  and  desire  it.  This  is  distinctly  recognized 
by  Aristotle.  The  question,  therefore,  naturally  arises — is  that 
end  fixed  for  man  by  a  higher  intelligence,  and  does  it  exist  for 
man  both  as  an  idea  and  as  an  ideal  ?  Can  man,  first,  intellec- 
tually apprehend  the  idea,  and  then  consciously  strive  after  its 
realization  ?  Is  it  the  duty  of  man  to  aim  at  fulfilling  the  pur- 
poses of  his  Creator  ?  To  this  it  may  be  answered  that  Aris- 
totle is  not  at  all  explicit  as  to  God's  moral  government  of  the 
world.  "Moral  government,"  in  the  now  common  acceptation 
of  the  term,  has  no  place  in  the  system  of  Aristotle,  and  the 
idea  of  "duty"  is  scarcely  recognized.     He  considers  "the 

■  good  "  chiefly  in  relation  to  the  constitution  and  natural  con- 
dition of  man.  "It  is"  says  he,  "the  end  towards  which  nature 
tendsP  As  physical  things  strive  unconsciously  after  the  end 
of  their  existence,  so  man  strives  after  the  good  attainable  in 
life.  Socrates  had  identified  virtue  and  knowledge,  he  had 
taught  that  "virtue  is  a  Science."  Aristotle  contended  that 
virtue  is  an  art,  like  music  and  architecture,  which  must  be  at- 
tained by  exercise.  It  is  not  purely  intellectual,  it  is  the  bloom 
of  the  physical,  which  has  become  ethical.  As  the  flower  of 
the  field,  obeying  the  laws  of  its  organization,  springs  up, 
blooms,  and  attains  its  own  peculiar  perfection,  so  there  is  an 
instinctive  desire  i^o^tliq)  in  the  soul  which  at  first  unconscious- 
ly yearns  after  the  good,  and  subsequently  the  good  is  sought 
with  full  moral  intent  and  insight.  Aristotle  assumes  that  the 
desires  or  instincts  of  man  are  so  framed  as  to  imply  the  ex- 
istence of  this  end  {rtkoq)^  And  he  asserts  that  man  can  only 
^  "  Ethics,"  bk.  i.  ch.  xiii.  "^  Ibid.,  bk.  i.  ch.  ii. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  419 

realize  it  in  the  sphere  of  his  own  proper  functions,  and  in  ac- 
cordance with  the  laws  of  his  own  proper  nature  and  its  har- 
monious development/  It  is  not,  then,  through 'instruction,  or 
through  the  perfection  of  knowledge,  that  man  is  to  attain  the 
good,  but  through  exercise  and  habit  i^idoo).  By  practice  of 
moral  acts  we  become  virtuous,  just  as  by  practice  of  building 
and  of  music,  we  become  architects  and  musicians;  for  the 
habit,  which  is  the  ground  of  moral  character,  is  only  a  fruit  of 
oft-repeated  moral  acts.  Hence  it  is  by  these  three  things — 
nature,  habit,  reason — that  men  become  good. 

Aristotle's  question,  therefore,  is,  What  is  the  chief  good  for 
man  as  man  ?  not  what  is  his  chief  good  as  a  spiritual  and  an 
immortal  being?  or  what  is  his  chief  good  as  a  being  related  to 
and  dependent  upon  God  "i  And  the  conclusion  at  which  he 
arrives  is,  that  it  is  the  absolute  satisfaction  of  our  whole  nature — 
that  which  men  are  agreed  in  calling  happiness.  This  happi- 
ness, however,  is  not  mere  sensual  pleasure.  The  brute  shares 
this  in  common  with  man,  therefore  it  can  not  constitute  the 
happiness  of  man.  Human  happiness  must  express  the  com- 
pleteness of  rational  existence.  And  inasmuch  as  intelligence 
is  essential  activity,  as  the  soul  is  the  entelechy  of  the  body, 
therefore  the  happiness  of  man  can  not  consist  in  a  mere  pas- 
sive condition.  It  must,  therefore,  consist  in  perfect  activity  in 
well-doing,  and  especially  in  contemplative  thought,'^  or  as  Ar- 
istotle defines  it — "//  is  a  perfect  practical  activity  in  a  perfect 
life."^  His  conception  of  the  chief  good  has  thus  two  sides, 
one  internal,  that  which  exists  in  and  for  the  consciousness — a 
"  complete  and  perfect  life,"  the  other  external  and  practical. 
The  latter,  however,  is  a  means  to  the  former.     That  complete 

^  "  Ethics,"  bk.  i.  ch.  vii. 

^  "  If  it  be  true  to  say  that  happiness  consists  in  doing  well,  a  life  of  ac- 
tion must  be  best  both  for  the  state  and  the  individual.  But  we  need  not, 
as  some  do,  suppose  that  a  life  of  action  implies  relation  to  others,  or  that 
those  only  are  active  thoughts  which  are  concerned  with  the  results  of  ac- 
tion ;  but  far  rather  we  must  consider  those  speculations  and  thoughts  to  be 
so  which  have  their  e7td  in  themselves,  and  which  are  for  their  own  sake." — 
"  Politics,"  bk.  vii.  ch.  iii. 

^"  Ethics,"  bk  i.  ch.  x. 


42 o  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

and  perfect  life  is  the  complete  satisfaction  and  perfection  of 
our  rational  nature.  It  is  a  state  of  peace  which  is  the  crown 
of  exertion.  It  is  the  realization  of  the  divine  in  man,  and  con- 
stitutes the  absolute  and  all-sufficient  happiness.'  A  good  ac- 
tion is  thus  an  End-in-itself  (riXewy  tsXoq)  inasmuch  as  it  se- 
cures \\\^ perfedmi  of  our  nature ;  it  is  that  for  the  sake  of  which 
our  moral  faculties  before  existed,  hence  bringing  an  inward 
pleasure  and  satisfaction  with  it ;  something  in  which  the  mind 
can  rest  and  fully  acquiesce ;  something  which  can  be  pro- 
nounced beautiful,  fitting,  honorable,  and  perfect. 

From  what  has  been  already  stated,  it  will  be  seen  that  the 
Aristotelian  conception  of  Virtue  is  not  conformity  to  an  abso- 
lute and  immutable  standard  of  right.  It  is  defined  by  him  as 
the  observation  of  the  right  mean  {jiEaorric)  in  action — that  is,  the 
right  mean  relatively  to  ourselves.  "Virtue  is  a  habit  delib- 
erately choosing,  existing  as  a  7nean  (ixiaov)  which  refers  to  us, 
and  is  defined  by  reason,  and  as  a  prudent  man  would  define 
it  j  and  it  is  a  mean  between  two  evils,  the  one  consisting  in 
excess,  the  other  in  defect ;  and  further,  it  is  a  mean,  in  that 
one  of  these  falls  short  of,  and  the  other  exceeds,  what  is  right 
both  in  passions  and  actions ;  and  that  virtue  both  finds  and 
chooses  the  mean."^  The  perfection  of  an  action  thus  consists 
in  its  containing  the  right  degree— the  true  mean  between  too 
much,  and  too  little.  The  law  of  the  fieaorrjg  is  illustrated  by 
the  following  examples :  Man  has  a  fixed  relation  to  pleasure 
and  pain.  In  relation  to  pain,  the  true  mean  is  found  in  nei- 
ther fearing  it  nor  courting  it,  and  this  is  fortitude.  In  relation 
to  pleasure,  the  true  mean  stands  between  greediness  and  in- 
difference ;  this  is  temperance.  The  true  mean  between  prodi- 
gality and  narrowness  is  liberality  ;  between  simplicity  and  cun- 
ning vs>  prudence ;  h^\.\i^&w  suffering  wrong  and  doing  wrong  is 
justice.  Extending  this  law  to  certain  qualifications  of  temper, 
speech,  and  manners,  you  have  the  portrait  of  a  graceful  Gre- 
cian gentleman.  Virtue  is  thus  proportion^  grace,  harmony, 
beauty  in  action. 

*  "  Ethics,"  bk.  x.  ch.  viii.  ""  Ibid.,  bk.  ii.  ch,  vi. 


GREEK  PJIILOSOPUY. 


421 


It  will  at  once  be  seen  that  this  classification  has  no  stable 
foundation.  It  furnishes  no  ultimate  standard  of  right.  The 
mean  is  a  wavering  line.  It  differs  under  different  circumstances 
and  relations,  and  in  different  times  and  places.  That  mean 
which  is  sufficient  for  one  individual  is  insufficient  for  another. 
The  virtue  of  a  man,  of  a  slave,  and  of  a  child,  is  respectively 
different.  There  are  as  many  virtues  as  there  are  circumstances 
in  life ;  and  as  men  are  ever  entering  into  new  relations,  in 
which  it  is  difficult  to  determine  the  correct  method  of  action, 
the  separate  virtues  can  not  be  limited  to  any  definite  number. 

Imperfect  as  the  ethical  system  of  Aristotle  may  appear  to 
us  who  live  in  Christian  times,  it  must  be  admitted  that  his 
writings  abound  with  just  and  pure  sentiments.  His  science 
of  Ethics  is  a  discipline  of  human  chat'acter  in  order  to  human 
happiness.  And  whilst  it  must  be  admitted  that  it  is  directed 
solely  to  the  improvement  of  man  in  the  present  life,  he  aims 
to  build  that  improvement  on  pure  and  noble  principles,  and 
seeks  to  elevate  man  to  the  highest  perfection  of  which  he 
could  conceive.  "And  no  greater  praise  can  be  given  to  a 
work  of  heathen  morality  than  to  say,  as  may  be  said  of  the 
ethical  writings  of  Aristotle,  that  they  contain  nothing  which  a 
Christian  may  dispense  with,  no  precept  of  life  which  is  not  an 
element  of  Christian  character ;  and  that  they  only  fail  in  ele- 
vating the  heart  and  the  mind  to  objects  which  it  needed  Di- 
vine Wisdom  to  reveal."^ 

'Encyclopaedia  Britannica,  article  "Aristotle." 


422 


CHRISTIANITY  AND 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE   PHILOSOPHERS   OF   ATHENS   {cotltimied). 
POST-SOCRATIC  SCHOOL. 

EPICURUS  AND  ZENO. 

PHILOSOPHY,  after  the  time  of  Aristotle,  takes  a  new 
direction.  In  the  pre-Socratic  schools,  we  have  seen  it 
was  mainly  a  philosophy  of  nature ;  in  the  Socratic  school  it 
was  characterized  as  a  philosophy  of  mind  j  and  now  in  the 
post-Socratic  schools  it  becomes  a  philosophy  of  life — a  moral 
philosophy.  Instead  of  aiming  at  the  knowledge  of  real  Being 
— of  the  permanent,  unchangeable,  eternal  principles  which 
underlie  all  phenomena,  it  was  now  content  to  aim,  chiefly,  at 
individual  happiness.  The  primary  question  now  discussed,  as 
of  the  most  vital  importance,  is,  What  is  the  ultimate  standard 
by  which,  amid  all  the  diversities  of  human  conduct  and  opin- 
ion, we  may  determine  what  is  right  and  good  in  individual 
and  social  life  ? 

This  remarkable  change  in  the  course  of  philosophic  in- 
quiry was  mainly  due — 

I  St.  To  the  altered  circumstances  of  the  titnes.  An  age  of  civil 
disturbance  and  political  intrigue  succeeded  the  Alexandrian 
period.  The  different  states  of  Greece  lost  their  independence, 
and  became  gradually  subject  to  a  foreign  yoke.  Handed  over 
from  one  domination  to  another,  in  the  struggles  of  Alexander's 
lieutenants,  they  endeavored  to  reconquer  their  independence 
by  forming  themselves  into  confederations,  but  were  powerless 
to  unite  in  the  defense  of  a  common  cause.  The  Achaean  and 
Etolian  leagues  were  weakened  by  internal  discords ;  and  it 
was  in  vain  that  Sparta  tried  to  recover  her  ancient  liberties. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  423 

Divided  amongst  themselves,  the  smaller  states  invoked  the 
aid  of  dangerous  ^allies — at  one  time  appealing  to  Macedon,  at 
another  to  Egypt.  In  this  way  they  prepared  for  the  total 
ruin  of  Greek  liberty,  which  was  destined  to  be  extinguished  by 
Rome/ 

During  this  period  of  hopeless  turmoil  and  social  disorder, 
all  lofty  pursuits  and  all  great  principles  were  lost  sight  of  and 
abandoned.  The  philosophic  movement  followed  the  down- 
ward course  of  society,  and  men  became  chiefly  concerned  for 
their  personal  interest  and  safety.  The  wars  of  the  Succession 
almost  obliterated  the  idea  of  society,  and  philosophy  was 
mainly  directed  to  the  securing  of  personal  happiness ;  it  be- 
came, in  fact,  "the  art  of  making  one's  self  happy."  The  sad 
reverses  to  which  the  Grecian  mind  had  been  subjected  pro- 
duced a  feeling  of  exhaustion  and  indifference,  which  soon  re- 
flected itself  in  the  philosophy  of  the  age. 

2d.  In  connection  with  the  altered  circumstances  of  the  age, 
we  must  also  take  account  oi  the  apparent  failure  of  the  Socratic 
method  to  solve  the  problem  of  Being. 

The  teaching  of  Aristotle  had  fostered  the  suspicion  that 
the  dialectic  method  was  a  failure,  and  thus  prepared  the  way 
for  a  return  to  sensualism.  He  had  taught  that  individuals 
alone  have  a  real  existence,  and  that  the  "essence"  of  things 
is  not  to  be  sought  in  the  elements  of  unity  and  generality,  or 
in  the  idea^  as  Plato  taught,  but  in  the  elements  of  diversity 
and  speciality.  And  furthermore,  in  opposition  to  Plato,  he 
had  taught  his  disciples  to  attach  themselves  to  sensation,  as 
the  source  of  all  knowledge.  As  the  direct  consequence  of 
this  teaching,  we  find  his  immediate  successors,  Dicearchus 
and  Straton,  deliberately  setting  aside  "  the  god  of  philosophy," 
affirming  "  that  a  divinity  was  unnecessary  to  the  explanation 
of  the  existence  and  order  of  the  universe."  Stimulated  by  the 
social  degeneracy  of  the  times,  the  characteristic  skepticism  of 
the  Greek  intellect  bursts  forth  anew.  As  the  skepticism  of 
the  Sophists  marked  the  close  of  the  first  period  of  philoso- 
*  Pressense,  "  Religions  before  Christ,"  pp.  136-140. 


424  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

phy,  so  the  skepticism  of  Pyrrhonism  marked  the  close  of  the 
second.  The  new  skepticism  arrayed  Aristotle  against  Plato, 
as  the  earlier  skeptics  arrayed  atomism  against  the  doctrine  of 
the  Eleatics.  They  naturally  said :  "  We  have  been  seeking  a 
long  time;  what  have  we  gained?  Have  we  obtained  any 
thing  certain  and  determinate?  Plato  says  we  have.  But 
Aristotle  and  Plato  do  not  agree.  May  not  our  opinion  be  as 
good  as  theirs  ?  What  a  diversity  of  opinions  have  been  pre- 
sented during  the  past  three  hundred  years  !  One  may  be  as 
good  as  another,  or  they  may  be  all  alike  untrue !"  Timon 
and  Pyrrhon  declared  that,  of  each  thing,  it  might  be  said  to 
be,  and  not  to  be  j  and  that,  consequently,  we  should  cease  tor- 
menting ourselves,  and  seek  to  obtain  an  absolute  cahji,  which 
they  dignified  with  the  name  of  ataraxie.  Beholding  the  over- 
throw and  disgrace  of  their  country,  surrounded  by  examples 
of  pusillanimity  and  corruption,  and  infected  with  the  spirit  of 
the  times  themselves,  they  wrote  this  maxim  :  "  Nothing  is  in- 
famous; nothing  is  in  itself  just;  laws  and  customs  alone  con- 
stitute what  is  justice  and  what  is  iniquity."  Having  reached 
this  extreme,  nothing  can  be  too  absurd,  and  they  cap  the  cli- 
max by  saying,  "  We  assert  nothing ;  no,  not  even  that  we  as- 
sert nothing !" 

And  yet  there  must  some  function,  undoubtedly,  remain  for 
the  "  wise  man  "  {(to(j)6q). 

Reason  was  given  for  some  purpose.  Philosophy  must  have 
some  end.  And  inasmuch  as  it  is  not  to  determine  specula- 
tive questions,  it  must  be  to  determine  practical  questions. 
May  it  not  teach  men  to  ad  rather  than  to  f/im/^  ?  The  philos- 
opher, the  schools,  the  disciples,  survive  the  darkening  flood  of 
skepticism. 

Three  centuries  before  Christ,  the  Peripatetic  and  Platonic 
schools  are  succeeded  by  two  other  schools,  which  inherit  their 
importance,  and  which,  in  other  forms,  and  by  an  under-cur- 
rent, perpetuate  the  disputes  of  the  Peripatetics  and  Platonists, 
namely,  the  Epicureans  and  Stoics.  With  Aristotle  and  Plato, 
philosophy  embraced  in  its  circle  nature,  humanity,  and  God ; 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  425 

but  now,  in  the  systems  of  Epicurus  and  Zeno,  moral  philoso- 
phy is  placed  in  the  foreground,  and  assumes  the  chief,  the 
overshadowing  pre-eminence.  The  conduct  of  life — morality 
— is  now  the  grand  subject  of  inquiry,  and  the  great  theme  of 
discourse. 

In  dealing  with  morals  two  opposite  methods  of  inquiry  were 
possible  : 

1.  To  Judge  of  the  quality  of  actions  by  their  results. 

2.  To  search  for  the  quality  af  actions  in  the  actions  them- 
selves. 

Utility,  which  in  its  last  analysis  is  Pleasure,  is  the  test  of 
right,  in  the  first  method ;  an  assumed  or  discovered  Law  of 
Nature,  in  the  second."  If  the  world  were  perfect,  and  the  bal- 
ance of  the  human  faculties  undisturbed,  it  is  evident  that  both 
systems  would  give  identical  results.  As  it  is,  there  is  a  ten- 
dency to  error  on  each  side,  which  is  fully  developed  in  the 
rival  schools  of  the  Epicureans  and  Stoics,  who  practically 
divided  the  suffrages  of  the  mass  of  educated  men  until  the 
coming  of  Christ. 

EPICUREANS. 

Epicurus  was  born  b.c.  342,  and  died  B.C.  270.  He 
purchased  a  Garden  within  the  city,  and  commenced,  at 
thirty-six  years  of  age,  to  teach  philosophy.  The  Platonists 
had  their  academic  Grove  :  the  Aristotelians  walked  in  the 
Lyceum :  the  Stoics  occupied  the  Porch  :  the  Epicureans  had 
their  Garden,  where  they  lived  a  tranquil  life,  and  seem  to 
have  had  a  community  of  goods. 

There  is  not  one  of  all  the  various  founders  of  the  ancient 
philosophical  schools  whose  memory  was  cherished  with  so 
much  veneration  by  his  disciples  as  that  of  Epicurus.  For 
several  centuries  after  his  death,  his  portrait  was  treated  by 
them  with  all  the  honors  of  a  sacred  relic :  it  was  carried 
about  with  them  in  their  journeys,  it  was  hung  up  in  their 
schools,  it  was  preserved  with  reverence  in  their  private  cham- 
bers ;  his  birthday  was  celebrated  with  sacrifices  and  other  re- 


426  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

ligious  observances,  and  a  special  festival  in  his  honor  was  held 
every  month. 

So  much  honor  having  been  paid  to  the  memory  of  Epicu- 
rus, we  naturally  expect  that  his  works  would  have  been  pre- 
served with  religious  care.  He  was  one  of  the  most  prolific  of 
the  ancient  Greek  writers.  Diogenes  calls  him  "  a  most  volu- 
minous writer,"  and  estimates  the  number  of  works  composed 
by  him  at  no  less  than  three  hundred,  the  principal  of  which 
he  enumerates.'  But  out  of  all  this  prodigious  collection,  not 
a  single  book  has  reached  us  in  a  complete,  or  at  least  an  in- 
dependent form.  Three  letters,  which  contain  some  outlines 
of  his  philosophy,  are  preserved  by  Diogenes,  who  has  also  em- 
bodied his  "  Fundamental  Maxims  " — ^orty-four  propositions, 
containing  a  summary  of  his  ethical  system.  These,  with  part 
of  his  work  "  On  Nature,"  found  during  the  last  century  among 
the  Greek  MSS.  recovered  at  Herculaneum,  constitute  all  that 
has  survived  the  general  wreck. 

We  are  thus  left  to  depend  mainly  on  his  disciples  and  suc- 
cessors for  any  general  account  of  his  system.  And  of  the 
earliest  and  most  immediate  of  these  the  writings  have  per- 
ished.'' Our  sole  original  authority  is  Diogenes  Laertius,  who 
was  unquestionably  an  Epicurean.  The  sketch  of  Epicurus 
which  is  given  in  his  "  Lives  "  is  evidently  a  "  labor  of  love." 
Among  all  the  systems  of  ancient  philosophy  described  by  him, 
there  is  none  of  whose  general  character  he  has  given  so  skill- 
ful and  so  elaborate  an  analysis.  And  even  as  regards  the 
particulars  of  the  system,  nothing  could  be  more  complete  than 
Laertius's  account  of  his  physical  speculations.  Additional 
light  is  also  furnished  by  the  philosophic  poem  of  Lucretius 
"  On  the  Nature  of  Things,"  which  w^as  written  to  advocate  the 


*  Diogenes  Laertius,  "  Lives  of  the  Philosophers,  "bk.  x.  ch.  xvi.,  xvii. 

'  Some  fragments  of  the  writings  of  Metrodorus,  Phaedrus,  Polystratus, 
and  Philodemus,  have  been  found  among  the  Herculanean  Papyri,  and  pub- 
lished in  Europe,  which  are  said  to  throw  some  additional  light  on  the  doc- 
trines of  Epicurus.  See  article  on  "  Herculanean  Papyri,"  in  Edinburgh  Re- 
view, October,  1862. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  427 

physical  theory  of  Epicurus.  These  are  the  chief  sources  of 
our  information. 

It  is  said  of  Epicurus  that  he  loved  to  hearken  to  the  stories 
of  the  indifference  and  apathy  of  Pyrrhon,  and  that,  in  these 
qualities,  he  aspired  to  imitate  him.  But  Epicurus  was  not, 
like  Pyrrhon,  a  skeptic ;  on  the  contrary,  he  was  the  most  im- 
perious dogmatist.  No  man  ever  showed  so  little  respect  for 
the  opinions  of  his  predecessors,  or  so  much  confidence  in  his 
own.  He  was  fond  of  boasting  that  he  had  made  his  own  phi- 
losophy— he  was  a  "  self-taught "  man  !  Now  "  Epicurus  might 
be  perfectly  honest  in  saying  he  had  read  very  little,  and  had 
worked  out  the  conclusions  in  his  own  mind ;  but  he  was  a 
copyist,  nevertheless ;  few  men  more  entirely  so.'"  His  psy- 
chology was  certainly  borrowed  from  the  Ionian  school.  From 
thence  he  had  derived  his  fundamental  maxim,  that  "  sensation 
is  the  source  of  all  knowledge,  and  the  standard  of  all  truth." 
His  physics  were  copied  from  Democritus.  With  both,  "  atoms 
are  the  first  principle  of  all  things."  And  in  Ethics  he  had 
learned  from  Aristotle,  that  if  an  absolute  good  is  not  the  end 
of  a  practical  life,  happiness  must  be  its  end.''  All  that  is  fun- 
damental in  the  system  of  Epicurus  was  borrowed  from  his  pred- 
ecessors, and  there  is  little  that  can  be  called  new  in  his  teach- 
ing. 

The  grand  object  of  philosophy,  according  to  Epicurus,  is 
the  attainment  of  a  happy  life.  "  Philosophy,"  says  he,  "  is  the 
power  by  which  reason  conducts  men  to  happiness."  Truth  is 
a  merely  relative  thing,  a  variable  quantity ;  and  therefore  the 
pursuit  of  truth  for  its  own  sake  is  superfluous  and  useless. 
There  is  no  such  thing  as  absolute,  unchangeable  right :  no  ac- 
tion is  intrinsically  right  or  wrong.  "  We  choose  the  virtues,  not 
on  their  own  account,  but  for  the  sake  of  pleasure,  just  as  we 
seek  the  skill  of  the  physician  for  the  sake  of  health."'  That 
which  is  nominally  right  in  morals,  that  which  is  relatively  good 

*  Maurice's  "  Ancient  Philosophy,"  p.  236.         "^  "  Ethics,"  bk.  i.  ch.  vi. 
^  "  Fundamental  Maxims,"  preserved  in  Diogenes  Laertius,  "  Lives  of 
the  Philosophers,"  bk.  x.  ch.  xxx. 


42  8  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

in  human  conduct,  is,  therefore,  to  be  determined  by  the  effects 
upon  ourselves  ;  that  which  is  agreeable — pleasurable,  is  right ; 
that  which  is  disagreeable — painful,  is  wrong.  "The  virtues 
are  connate  with  living  pleasantly."^  Pleasure  (hlovii),  then,  is 
the  great  end  to  be  sought  in  human  action.  "  Pleasure  is  the 
chief  good,  the  beginning  and  end  of  living  happily."^ 

The  proof  which  Epicurus  offers  in  support  of  his  doctrine, 
"  that  pleasure  is  the  chief  good,"  is  truly  characteristic.  "  All 
animals  /rom  the  moment  of  their  birth  are  delighted  with 
pleasure  and  offended  with  pain^  by  their  natural  instincts, 
and  without  the  employment  of  reason.  Therefore  we,  also, 
of  our  own  inclination,  flee  from  pain."^  "All  men  like  pleasure 
and  dislike  pain ;  they  naturally  shun  the  latter  and  pursue  the 
former."  "If  happiness  is  present,  we  have  every  thing,  and 
when  it  is  absent,  we  do  every  thing  with  a  view  to  possess  it."* 
Virtue  thus  consists  in  man's  doing  deliberately  what  the  ani- 
mals do  instinctively — that  is,  choose  pleasure  and  avoid  pain. 

"  Every  kind  of  pleasure  "  is,  in  the  estimation  of  Epicurus, 
"alike  good,"  and  alike  proper.  "If  those  things  which  make 
the  pleasures  of  debauched  men  put  an  end  to  the  fears  of  the 
mind,  and  to  those  which  arise  about  the  heavenly  bodies  [su- 
pernatural powers],  and  death  and  pain, ....  we  should  have 
no  pretense  for  blaming  those  who  wholly  devote  themselves 
to  pleasure,  and  who  never  feel  any  pain,  or  grief  (which  is  the 
chief  evil)  from  any  quarter."^  Whilst,  however,  all  pleasures 
of  the  body,  as  well  as  the  mind,  are  equal  in  dignity,  and  alike 
good,  they  differ  in  intensity,  in  duration,  and,  especially,  in 
their  consequences.  He  therefore  divides  pleasure  into  two 
classes ;  and  in  this,  as  Cousin  remarks,  is  found  the  only  ele- 
ment of  originality  in  his  philosophy.  These  two  kinds  of 
pleasure  are  : 

'  "  Epicurus  to  Menaeceus,"  in  Diogenes  Laertius,  "  Lives  of  the  Philos- 
ophers," bk.  X.  ch.  xxvii.  ^  Id.,  ib. 

^  Diogenes  Laertius,  "  Lives  of  the  Philosophers,"  bk.  x.  ch.  xxix. 

■*  Id.,  ib.,  bk.  X.  ch.  xxvii. 

^  "  Fundamental  Maxims,"  No.  9,  in  Diogenes  Laertius,  "  Lives  of  the 
Philosophers,"  bk.  x.  ch.  xxxi. 


GREEK  PHILOSOFIIY.  429 

1.  The  pleasure  of  movement^  excitement^  energy  {\\covr\  iv 
KivrjffEi).^  This  is  the  most  lively  pleasure;  it  supposes  the 
greatest  development  of  physical  and  mental  power.  "Joy 
and  cheerfulness  are  beheld  in  motion  and  energy."  But  it  is 
not  the  most  enduring  pleasure,  and  it  is  not  the  most  perfect. 
It  is  accompanied  by  uneasiness  ;  it  "brings  with  it  many  per- 
turbations," and  it  yields  some  bitter  fruits. 

2.  TAe  second  kind  of  pleasure  is  the  pleasure  of  repose^  tran- 
quillity, impassibility  {i]lov\]  KaTaarTjfxarLKri).  This  is  a  state,  a 
"  condition,"  rather  than  a  motion.  It  is  "  the  freedom  of  the 
body  from  pain,  and  the  soul  from  confusion."^  This  is  perfect 
and  unmixed  happiness — the  happiness  of  God ;  and  he  who 
attains  it  "  will  be  like  a  god  among  men."  "  The  storm  of 
the  soul  is  at  an  end,  and  body  and  soul  are  perfected." 

Now,  whilst  "  no  pleasure  is  intrinsically  bad,"^  prudence 
{(l)p6vr](TiQ),  or  practical  wisdom,  would  teach  us  to  choose  the 
highest  and  most  perfect  happiness.  Morality  is  therefore  the 
application  of  reason  to  the  conduct  of  life,  and  virtue  is  wis- 
dom. The  office  of  reason  is  to  "  determine  our  choices  " — to 
take  account  of  the  duration  of  pleasures,  to  estimate  their  con- 
sequences, and  to  regard  the  happiness  of  a  whole  lifetime, 
and  not  the  enjoyment  of  a  single  hour.  Without  wisdom  men 
will  choose  the  momentary  excitements  of  passion,  and  follow 
after  agitating  pleasures,  which  are  succeeded  by  pain;  they 
will  consequently  lose  "  tranquillity  of  mind."  "  It  is  not  pos- 
sible," says  Epicurus,  "to  live  pleasantly  without  living  pru- 
dently and  honorably  and  justly."*  The  difference,  then,  be- 
tween the  philosopher  and  the  ordinary  man  is  this — that  while 
both  seek  pleasure,  the  former  knows  how  to  forego  certain 
indulgences  which  cause  pain  and  vexation  hereafter,  whereas 
the  ordinary  man  seeks  only  immediate  enjoyment.  Epicurus 
does  not  dispense  with  virtue,  but  he  simply  employs  it  as  a 
means  to  an  end,  namely,  the  securing  of  happiness.^ 

*  Diogenes  Laertius,  "Lives  of  the  Philosophers,"  bk.  x.  ch.  xxviii. 

*  Id.,  ib,  ^  "  Fundamental  Maxims,"  No.  7.  *  Ibid.,  No.  5. 
^  Pressensc,  "  Religions  before  Christ,"  p.  141. 


43 o  CHMISTIANITT  AND 

Social  morality  is,  like  private  morality,  founded  upon  utili- 
ty. As  nothing  is  intrinsically  right  or  wrong  in  private  life,  so 
nothing  is  intrinsically  just  or  unjust  in  social  life.  "Justice 
has  no  independent  existence  :  it  results  from  mutual  contracts, 
and  establishes  itself  wherever  there  is  a  mutual  engagement 
to  guard  against  doing  or  sustaining  any  injury.  Injustice  is 
not  intrinsically  bad ;  it  has  this  character  only  because  there 
is  joined  with  it  the  fear  of  not  ^escaping  those  who  are  appoint- 
ed to  punish  actions  marked  with  this  character."^  Society  is 
thus  a  contract — an  agreement  to  promote  each  other's  happi- 
ness. And  inasmuch  as  the  happiness  of  the  individual  de- 
pends in  a  great  degree  upon  the  general  happiness,  the  es- 
sence of  his  ethical  system,  in  its  political  aspects,  is  contained 
in  inculcating  "the  greatest  happiness  of  the  greatest  number." 

If  you  ask  Epicurus  what  a  man  shall  do  when  it  is  clearly 
his  immediate  interest  to  violate  the  social  contract,  he  would 
answer,  that  if  your  general  interest  is  secured  by  always  ob- 
serving it,  you  must  make  momentary  sacrifices  for  the  sake  of 
future  good.  But  "when,  in  consequence  of  new  circumstan- 
ces, a  thing  which  has  been  pronounced  just  does  not  any  long- 
er appear  to  agree  with  utility,  the  thing  which  was  just . . . 
ceases  to  be  just  the  moment  it  ceases  to  be  useful."*  So  that 
self-interest  is  still  the  basis  of  all  virtue.  And  if,  by  the  per- 
formance of  duty,  you  are  exposed  to  great  suffering,  and  es- 
pecially to  death,  you  are  perfectly  justified  in  the  violation  of 
any  and  all  contracts.     Such  is  the  social  morality  of  Epicurus. 

With  coarse  and  energetic  minds  the  doctrine  of  Epicurus 
would  inevitably  lead  to  the  grossest  sensuality  and  crime; 
with  men  whose  temperament  was  more  apathetic,  or  whose 
tastes  were  more  pure,  it  would  develop  a  refined  selfishness — 
a  perfect  egoism,  which  Epicurus  has  adorned  with  the  name 
"  tranquillity  of  mind — impassibility,"  (arapa^m).' 

^  "  Fundamental  Maxims,"  Nos.  35,  36.  ^  Ibid,  No.  41. 

^  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  discuss  the  question  whether,  by  making 
pleasure  the  standard  of  right,  Epicurus  intended  to  encourage  what  is 
usually  called  sensuality.  He  earnestly  protested  against  any  such  unfavor- 
able interpretation  of  his  doctrine  : — "  When  we  say  that  pleasure  is  a  chief 


GBEEK  PniLOSOniY. 


431 


To  secure  this  highest  kind  of  happiness — this  pure  impas- 
sivity, it  was  necessary  to  get  rid  of  all  "  superstitious  fears  " 
of  death,  of  supernatural  beings,  and  of  a  future  retribution.^ 
The  chief  causes  of  man's  misery  are  his  illusions,  his  super- 
stitions, and  his  prejudices.  "That  which  principally  contrib- 
utes to  trouble  the  spirit  of  men,  is  the  persuasion  which  they 
cherish  that  the  stars  are  beings  imperishable  and  happy  (/.  ^., 
that  they  are  gods),  and  that  then  our  thoughts  and  actions  are 
contrary  to  the  will  of  those  superior  beings ;  they  also,  being 
deluded  by  these  fables,  apprehend  an  eternity  of  evils,  they 
fear  the  insensibility  of  death,  as   though  that  could   affect 

them "     "The  real  freedom  from  this  kind  of  trouble 

consists  in  being  emancipated  from  all  these  things.'"*  And 
this  emancipation  is  to  be  secured  by  the  study  of  philosophy — 

good,  we  are  not  speaking  of  the  pleasures  of  the  debauched  man,  or  those 
which  lie  in  sensual  enjoyment,  as  some  think  who  are  ignorant,  and  who  do 
not  entertain  our  opinions,  or  else  interpret  them  perversely ;  but  we  mean 
the  freedom  of  the  body  from  pain,  and  the  soul  from  confusion  "  ("  Epicurus 
to  Menaeceus,"  in  Diogenes  Laertius,  "  Lives,"  bk.  x.  ch.  xxvii.).  The  most 
obvious  tendency  of  this  doctrine  is  to  extreme  selfishness,  rather  than  ex- 
treme sensuality — a  selfishness  which  prefers  one's  own  comfort  and  ease 
to  every  other  consideration. 

As  to  the  personal  character  of  Epicurus,  opinions  have  been  divided 
both  in  ancient  and  modern  times.  By  some  the  garden  has  been  called  a 
"  sty."  Epicurus  has  been  branded  as  a  libertine,  and  the  name  "  Epicurean  " 
has,  in  almost  all  languages,  become  the  synonym  of  sensualism.  Diogenes 
Laertius  repels  all  the  imputations  which  are  cast  upon  the  moral  character 
of  his  favorite  author,  and  ascribes  them  to  the  malignity  and  falsehood  of 
the  Stoics.  "  The  most  modern  criticism  seems  rather  inclined  to  revert  to 
the  vulgar  opinion  respecting  him,  rejecting,  certainly  with  good  reason,  the 
fanatical  panegyrics  of  some  French  and  English  writers  of  the  last  century. 
Upon  the  whole,  we  are  inclined  to  believe  that  Epicurus  was  an  apathetic, 
decorous,  formal  man,  who  was  able,  without  much  difficulty,  to  cultivate  a 
measured  and  even  habit  of  mind,  who  may  have  occasionally  indulged  in 
sensual  gratifications  to  prove  that  he  thought  them  lawful,  but  who  gener- 
ally preferred,  as  a  matter  of  taste,  the  exercises  of  the  intellect  to  the  more 
violent  forms  of  self-indulgence.  And  this  life,  it  seems  to  us,  would  be 
most  consistent  with  his  opinions.  To  avoid  commotion,  to  make  the  stream 
of  life  flow  on  as  easily  as  possible,  was  clearly  the  aim  of  his  philosophy." — 
Maurice's  "  Ancient  Philosophy,"  p.  236. 

^  Lucretius,  "On  the  Nature  of  Things,"  bk.  i.  1.  100-118. 
•   ^Epicurus  to  Herodotus,  in  D'ogenes  Laertius,  "Lives  of  the  Philoso- 
phers," p.  453  (Bohn's  edition). 


432  CHBISTIANITY  AND 

that  is,  of  that  philosophy  which  explains  every  thing  on  natu- 
ral or  physical  principles,  and  excludes  all  supernatural  powers. 

That  ignorance  which  occasions  man's  misery  is  twofold, 
(i.)  Ig?iorance  of  the  external  world,  which  leads  to  superstition. 
All  unexplained  phenomena  are  ascribed  to  unseen,  supernatu- 
ral powers;  often  to  malignant  powers,  which  take  pleasure 
in  tormenting  man;  sometimes  to  a  Supreme  and  Righteous 
Power,  which  rewards  and  punishes  men  for  their  good  or  evil 
conduct.  Hence  a  knowledge  of  Physics,  particularly  the 
physics  which  Democritus  taught,  was  needful  to  deliver  men 
from  false  hopes  and  false  fears.  ^  (ii.)  Ignorance  of  the  nature 
of  man,  of  his  faculties,  powers,  and  the  sources  atid  limits  of  his 
knowledge,  from  v/hence  arise  illusions,  prejudices,  and  errors. 
Hence  the  need  of  Psychology  to  ascertain  the  real  grounds 
of  human  knowledge,  to  explain  the  origin  of  man's  illusions, 
to  exhibit  the  groundlessness  of  his  fears,  and  lead  him  to  a 
just  conception  of  the  nature  and  end  of  his  existence. 

Physics  and  Psychology  are  thus  the  only  studies  which 
Epicurus  would  tolerate  as  "conducive  to  the  happiness  of 
man."  The  pursuit  of  truth  for  its  own  sake  was  useless. 
Dialectics,  which  distinguish  the  true  from  the  false,  the  good 
from  the  bad,  on  d  priori  grounds,  must  be  banished  as  an  un- 
necessary toil,  which  yields  no  enjoyment.  Theology  must  be 
cancelled  entirely,  because  it  fosters  superstitious  fears.  The 
idea  of  God's  taking  knowledge  of,  disapproving,  condemning, 
punishing  the  evil  conduct  of  men,  is  an  unpleasant  thought. 
Physics  and  Psychology  are  the  most  useful,  because  the  most 
"agreeable,"  the  most  "comfortable"  sciences. 

^  "  The  study  of  physics  contributes  more  than  any  thing  else  to  the  tran- 
quillity and  happiness  of  life." — Diogenes  Laertius,  "  Lives,"  bk.  x.  ch.  xxiv. 
"  For  thus  it  is  that  fear  restrains  all  men,  because  they  observe  many 
things  effected  on  the  earth  and  in  heaven,  of  which  effects  they  can  by  no 
means  see  the  causes,  and  therefore  think  that  they  are  wrought  by  a  diviiie 
power.  For  which  reasons,  when  we  have  clearly  seen  that  nothing  can  be 
produced  from  nothing,  we  shall  have  a  more  accurate  perception  of  that 
of  which  we  are  in  search,  and  shall  understand  whence  each  individual 
thing  is  generated,  and  how  all  things  are  done  without  the  agency  of  the 
gods." — Lucretius,  "On  the  Nature  of  Things,"  bk.  i.  1.  145-150. 


GREEK   PniLOSOPHT.  433 

EPICUREAN    PHYSICS. 

In  his  physical  theories  Epicurus  followed  Leucippus  and 
Democritus.  He  expounds  these  theories  in  his  letters  to 
Herodotus  and  Pythocles,  which  are  preserved  in  Diogenes 
Laertius.^  We  shall  be  guided  mainly  by  his  own  statements, 
and  when  his  meaning  is  obscure,  or  his  exposition  is  incom- 
plete, we  shall  avail  ourselves  of  the  more  elaborate  statements 
of  Lucretius,^  who  is  uniformly  faithful  to  the  doctrine  of  Epi- 
curus, and  universally  regarded  as  its  best  expounder. 

The  fundamental  principle  of  his  philosophy  is  the  ancient 
maxim — "^<?  ni/iilo  nihil^  in  iiihilum  nil  posse  reverti;"  but  in- 
stead of  employing  this  maxim  in  the  sense  in  which  it  is  used 
by  Parmenides,  Anaxagoras,  Empedocles,  and  others,  to  prove 
there  must  be  something  self-existent  and  eternal,  or  in  other 
words,  "that  nothing  which  once  was  not  can  ever  of  itself 
come  into  being,"  he  uses  it  to  disprove  a  divine  creation,  and 
even  presents  the  maxim  in  an  altered  form — viz.,  "  nothing  is 
ever  divinely  generated  from  nothing;"'  and  he  thence  con- 
cludes that  the  world  was  by  no  means  made  for  us  by  divine 
power."*  Nature  is  eternal.  "The  universal  whole  always 
was  such  as  it  now  is,  and  always  will  be  such."  "The  uni- 
verse also  is  infinite,  for  that  which  is  finite  has  a  limit,  but  the 
universe  has  no  limit."^ 

The  two  great  principles  of  nature  are  a  vacuum^  and  a  ple- 
num. The  plenum  is  body,  or  tangible  nature ;  the  vacuum  is 
space,  or  intangible  nature.  "We  know  by  the  evidences  of 
the  senses  (which  are  our  only  rule  of  reasoning)  that  bodies 
have  a  real  existence,  and  we  infer  from  the  evidence  of  the 
senses  that  the  vacuum  has  a  real  existence ;  for  if  space  have 
no  real  existence,  there  would  be  nothing  in  which  bodies  can 
move,  as  we  see  they  really  do  move.  Let  us  add  to  this  re- 
flection that  one  can  not  conceive,  either  in  virtue  of  percep- 

*  "  Lives  of  the  Philosophers,"  bk.  x.  "^  "  De  Natura  Rerum." 

*  Lucretius,  "  On  the  Nature  of  Things,"  bk.  i.  *  Ibid. 

^  Diogenes  Laertius,  "  Lives  of  the  Philosophers,"  bk.  x.  ch.  xxiv. 

28 


434  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

tion,  or  of  any  analogy  founded  on  perception,  any  general 
quality  peculiar  to  all  beings,  which  is  not  either  an  attribute, 
or  an  accident,  of  the  body  or  of  the  vacuum.'" 

Of  bodies  some  are  "  combinations  " — concrete  bodies — and 
some  are  primordial  *'  elements,"  out  of  which  combinations 
are  formed.  These  primordial  elements,  out  of  which  the  uni- 
verse is  generated,  are  ^^  atoms  ^^  {aTOfxoi).  These  atoms  are 
"  the  first  principles  "  and  "  seeds  "  of  all  things.^  They  are 
"infinite  in  number,"  and,  as  their  name  implies,  they  are 
"infrangible,'^  " unchangeable,^'  and  "indestructible.'"^  Matter  is, 
therefore,  not  infinitely  divisible;  there  must  be  a  point  at 
which  division  ends.* 

The  only  qualities  of  atoms  2x^form,  magnitude,  and  density. 
All  the  other  sensible  qualities  of  matter — the  secondary  qual- 
ities— as  color,  odor,  sweetness,  bitterness,  etc. — are  necessarily 
inherent  in  form.  All  secondary  qualities  are  changeable,  but 
the  primary  atoms  are  unchangeable;  "for  in  the  dissolution  of 
combined  bodies  there  must  be  something  solid  and  indestruc- 
tible, of  such  a  kind  that  it  will  not  change,  either  into  what 
does  not  exist,  or  out  of  what  does  not  exist,  but  the  change 
results  from  a  simple  displacement  of  parts,  which  is  the  most 
usual  case,  or  from  an  addition  or  subtraction  of  particles."^ 

The  atoms  are  not  all  of  one  form,  but  of  different  forms 
suited  to  the  production  of  different  substances  by  combina- 
tion; some  are  square,  some  triangular,  some  smooth  and 
spherical,  some  are  hooked  with  points.  They  are  also  diver- 
sified in  magnitude  and  density.  The  number  of  original  forms 
is  "  incalculably  varied,"  but  not  infinite.  "  Every  variety  of 
forms  contains  an  infinitude  of  atoms,  but  there  is  not,  for  that 
reason,  an  infinitude  of  forms ;  it  is  only  the  number  of  them 
which  is  beyond  computation."®  To  assert  that  atoms  are  of 
every  kind  of  form,  magnitude,  and  density,  would  be  "  to  con- 

^  Diogenes  Laertius,  "  Lives  of  the  Philosophers,"  bk.  x.  ch,  xxiv. 
'  Id.,  ib.,  bk.  X.  ch.  xxv.  ^  Id.,  ib.,  bk.  x.  ch.  xxiv. 

*  Id.,  ib.;  Lucretius,  "  On  the  Nature  of  Things,"  bk.  i.  1.  616-620. 
'  Diogenes  Laertius,  *'  Lives  of  the  Philosophers,"  bk.  x.  ch.  xxiv. 
« Id.,  ib. 


OBEEK  PHILOSOPHY.  435 

tradict  the  phenomena ;"  for  experience  teaches  us  that  objects 
have  a  finite  magnitude,  and  form  necessarily  supposes  limi- 
tation. 

A  variety  of  these  primordial  forms  enter  into  the  composi- 
tion of  all  sensible  objects,  because  sensible  objects  possess 
different  qualities,  and  these  diversified  qualities  can  only  re- 
sult from  the  combination  of  different  original  forms.  "  The 
earth  has,  in  itself,  primary  atoms  from  which  springs,  rolling 
forth  cool  water,  incessantly  recruit  the  immense  sea ;  it  has 

also  atoms  from  which  Jire  arises Moreover,  the  earth 

contains  atoms  from  which  it  can  raise  up  rich  cor7t  and  cheer- 
ful groves  for  the  tribes  of  men "     So  that  "no  object  in 

nature  is  constituted  of  one  kind  of  elements,  and  whatever 
possesses  in  itself  most  numerous  powers  and  energies,  thus 
demonstrates  that  it  contains  more  numerous  kinds  of  primary 
particles,"^  or  primordial  "  seeds  of  things." 

"  The  atoms  are  in  a  continual  state  of  motion^^  and  "  have 
moved  with  equal  rapidity  from  all  eternity,  since  it  is  evident 
the  vacuum  can  offer  no  resistance  to  the  heaviest,  any  more 
than  the  lightest."  The  primary  and  original  movement  of  all 
atoms  is  in  straight  lines,  by  virtue  of  their  own  weight ^  The 
vacuum  separates  all  atoms  one  from  another,  at  greater  or  less 
distances,  and  they  preserve  their  own  peculiar  motion  in  the 
densest  substances.^ 

And  now  the  grand  crucial  question  arises — How  do  atoms 
combine  so  as  to  form  concrete  bodies'}  If  they  move  in  straight 
lines,  and  with  equal  rapidity  from  all  eternity,  then  they  can 
never  unite  so  as  to  form  concrete  substances.  They  can  only 
coalesce  by  deviating  from  a  straight  line."  How  are  they 
made  to  deviate  from  a  straight  line  ?    This  deviation  must  be 

^  Lucretius,  "  On  the  Nature  of  Things,"  bk.  i.  1.  582-600. 

^  Diogenes  Laertius,  "Lives  of  the  Philosophers,"  bk.  x.  ch.  xxiv.;  Lucre- 
tius, "  On  the  Nature  of  Things,"  bk.  i.  1.  80-92. 

^  "At  some  time,  though  at  no  fixed  and  determinate  time,  and  at  some 
point,  though  at  no  fixed  and  determinate  point,  they  turn  aside  from  the 
right  line,  but  only  so  far  as  you  can  call  the  least  possible  deviation." — 
Lucretius,  "  On  the  Nature  of  Things,"  bk.  ii.  1.  216-222. 


436  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

introduced  arbitrarily,  or  by  some  external  cause.  And  inas- 
much as  Epicurus  admits  of  no  causes  "but  space  and  matter," 
and  rejects  all  divine  or  supernatural  interposition,  the  new 
movement  must  be  purely  arbitrary.  They  deviate  spontane- 
ously, and  of  their  own  accord.  "  The  system  of  nature  imme- 
diately appears  as  a  free  agent,  released  from  tyrant  masters,  to 
do  every  thing  of  itself  spontaneously,  without  the  help  of  the 
gods-''^^  The  manner  in  which  Lucretius  proves  this  doctrine 
is  a  good  example  of  the  petitio  principii.  He  assumes,  in 
opposition  to  the  whole  spirit  and  tendency  of  the  Epicurean 
philosophy,  that  man  has  "a  free  will,"  and  then  argues  that 
if  man,  who- is  nothing  but  an  aggregation  of  atoms,  can  "turn 
aside  and  alter  his  own  movements,"  the  primary  elements,  of 
which  his  soul  is  composed,  must  have  some  original  sponta- 
neity. "  If  all  motion  is  connected  and  dependent,  and  a  new 
movement  perpetually  arises  from  a  former  one  in  a  certain 
order,  and  if  the  primary  elements-  do  not  produce  any  com- 
mencement of  motion  by  deviating  from  the  straight  line  to 
break  the  laws  of  fate,  so  that  cause  may  not  follow  cause  in 
infinite  succession,  whence  comes  this  freedom  of  will  to  all  ani- 
mals in  the  world.?  whence,  I  say,  is  this  liberty  of  action 
wrested  from  the  fates,  by  means  of  which  we  go  wheresoever 
inclination  leads  each  of  us?  whence  is  it  that  we  ourselves 
turn  aside,  and  alter  our  motions,  not  at  any  fixed  time,  nor  in 

any  fixed  part  of  space,  but  just  as  our  own  minds  prompt  ? 

Wherefore  we  must  necessarily  confess  that  the  same  is  the 
case  with  the  seeds  of  matter,  and  there  is  some  other  cause 
besides  strokes  and  weight  [resistance  and  density]  from  which 
this  power  [of  free  movement]  is  innate  in  them,  since  we  see 
that  nothing  is  produced  from  nothing.''^'^  Besides  form,  exten- 
sion, and  density,  Epicurus  has  found  another  inherent  or  es- 
sential quality  of  matter  or  atoms,  namely,  ^^spontaneous'''  motion. 
By  a  slight  "voluntary"  deflection  from  the  straight  line, 
atoms  are  now  brought  into  contact  with  each  other ;  "  they 

*  Lucretius,  "On  the  Nature  of  Things  "  bk.  ii.  1.  1092-1096. 
^  Id.,  ib.,  bk  ii.  1.  250-290. 


GREEK  FHILOSOPMT. 


437 


Strike  against  each  other,  and  by  the  percussion  new  move- 
ments and  new  complications  arise  " — "  movements  from  high 
to  low,  from  low  to  high,  and  horizontal  movements  to  and  fro, 
in  virtue  of  this  reciprocal  percussion."  The  atoms  "jostling 
about,  0/  their  own  accord^  in  infinite  modes,  were  often  brought 
together  confusedly,  irregularly,  and  to  no  purpose,  but  at 
length  they  successfully  coalesced ;  at  least,  such  of  them  as  were 
thrown  together  suddenly  became,  in  succession,  the  beginnings 
of  great  things — as  earth,  and  air,  and  sea,  and  heaven."^ 

And  now  Lucretius  shall  describe  the  formation  of  the  dif- 
ferent parts  of  the  world  according  to  the  cosmogony  of  Epicu- 
rus.    We  quote  from  Good's  translation  : 

"  But  from  this  boundless  mass  of  matter  first 
How  heaven,  and  earth,  and  ocean,  sun,  and  moon, 
Rose  in  nice  order,  now  the  muse  shall  tell. 
For  never,  doubtless,  from  result  of  thought, 
Or  mutual  compact,  could  primordial  seeds 
First  harmonize,  or  move  with  powers  precise. 
But  countless  crowds  in  countless  manners  urged, 
From  time  eternal,  by  intrinsic  weight 
And  ceaseless  repercussion,  to  combine 
In  all  the  possibilities  of  forms. 
Of  actions,  and  connections,  and  exert 
In  every  change  some  effort  to  create — 
Reared  the  rude  frame  at  length,  abruptly  reared, 
"Which,  when  once  gendered,  must  the  basis  prove 
Of  things  sublime ;  and  whence  eventual  rose 
Heaven,  earth,  and  ocean,  and  the  tribes  of  sense. 

Yet  now  nor  sun  on  fiery  wheel  was  seen 
Riding  sublime,  nor  stars  adorned  the  pole, 
Nor  heaven,  nor  earth,  nor  air,  nor  ocean  lived. 
Nor  aught  of  prospect  mortal  sight  surveyed ; 
But  one  vast  chaos,  boisterous  and  confused. 
Yet  order  hence  began ;   congenial  parts 
Parts  joined  congenial;  and  the  rising  world 
Gradual  evolved :  its  mighty  members  each 
From  each  divided,  and  matured  complete 
From  seeds  appropriate ;  whose  wild  discortderst. 
Reared  by  their  strange  diversities  of  form. 
With  ruthless  war  so  broke  their  proper  paths, 
Their  motions,  intervals,  conjunctions,  weights, 
And  repercussions,  nought  of  genial  act 

'  Lucretius,  "On  the  Nature  of  Things,"  bk.  ii.  1.  1051-1065. 


I 


438  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

Till  now  could  follow,  nor  the  seeds  themselves, 
E'en  though  conjoined  in  mutual  bonds,  cohere. 
Thus  air,  secreted,  rose  o'er  laboring  earth ; 
Secreted  ocean  flowed ;  and  the  pure  fire, 
Secreted  too,  toward  ether  sprang  sublime. 

But  first  the  seeds  terrene,  smce  ponderous  most 
And  most  perplext,  in  close  embraces  clung, 
And  towards  the  centre  conglobating  sunk. 
And  as  the  bond  grew  firmer,  ampler  forth 
Pressed  they  the  fluid  essences  that  reared 
Sun,  moon,  and  stars,  and  main,  and  heaven's  high  wall. 
For  those  of  atoms  lighter  far  consist, 
Subtiler,  and  more  rotund  than  those  of  earth. 
Whence,  from  the  pores  terrene,  with  foremost  haste 
Rushed  the  bright  ether,  towering  high,  and  swift 
Streams  of  fire  attracting  as  it  flowed. 

Then  mounted,  next,  the  base  of  sun  and  moon, 
'Twixt  earth  and  ether,  in  the  midway  air 
Rolling  their  orbs ;  for  into  neither  these 
Could  blend  harmonious,  since  too  light  with  earth 
To  sink  deprest,  while  yet  too  ponderous  far 
To  fly  with  ether  toward  the  realms  extreme : 
So  'twixt  the  two  they  hovered ;  vital  there 
Moving  forever,  parts  of  the  vast  whole ; 
As  move  forever  in  the  frame  of  man 
Some  active  organs,  while  some  oft  repose.'" 

After  explaining  the  origin  and  causes  of  the  varied  celes- 
tial phenomena,  he  proceeds  to  give  an  account  of  the  produc- 
tion of  plants,  animals,  and  man  : 

"Once  more  return  we  to  the  world's  pure  prime, 
Her  fields  yet  liquid,  and  the  tribes  survey 
First  she  put  forth,  and  trusted  to  the  winds. 

And  first  the  race  she  reared  of  verdant  herbs, 
Glistening  o'er  every  hill;  the  fields  at  large 
Shone  with  the  verdant  tincture,  and  the  trees 
Felt  the  deep  impulse,  and  with  outstretched  arms 
Broke  from  their  bonds  rejoicing.     As  the  down 
Shoots  from  the  winged  nations,  or  from  beasts 
Bristles  or  hair,  so  poured  the  new-born  earth 
Plants,  fruits,  and  herbage.     Then,  in  order  next, 
Raised  she  the  sentient  tribes,  in  various  modes, 
By  various  powers  distinguished :  for  not  heaven 
Down  dropped  them,  nor  from  ocean's  briny  waves 
Sprang  they,  terrestrial  sole  ;  whence,  justly  Earth 

^  Lucretius,  "  On  the  Nature  of  Things,"  b.  v.  1.  431-498. 


GBEEE  PHILOSOPHY.  439 

Claims  the  dear  name  of  mother,  since  alone 
Flowed  from  herself  whate'er  the  sight  surveys. 

E'en  now  oft  rears  she  many  a  sentient  tribe 
By  showers  and  sunshine  ushered  into  day.^ 
Whence  less  stupendous  tribes  should  then  have  risen 
More,  and  of  ampler  make,  herself  new-formed, 
In  flower  of  youth,  and  Ether  all  mature.^ 

Of  these  birds  first,  of  wing  and  plume  diverse, 
Broke  their  light  shells  in  spring-time :   as  in  spring 
Still  breaks  the  grasshopper  his  curious  web, 
And  seeks,  spontaneous,  foods  and  vital  air. 

Then  rushed  the  ranks  of  mortals ;  for  the  soil. 
Exuberant  then,  with  warmth  and  moisture  teemed. 
So,  o'er  each  scene  appropriate,  myriad  wombs 
Shot,  and  expanded,  to  the  genial  sward 
By  fibres  fixt ;  and  as,  in  ripened  hour. 
Their  liquid  orbs  the  daring  foetus  broke 
Of  breath  impatient,  nature  here  transformed 
Th'  assenting  earth,  and  taught  her  opening  veins 
With  juice  to  flow  lacteal ;  as  the  fair 
Now  with  sweet  milk  o'erflows,  whose  raptured  breast 
First  hails  the  stranger-babe,  since  all  absorbed 
Of  nurture,  to  the  genial  tide  converts. 
Earth  fed  the  nursling,  the  warm  ether  clothed. 
And  the  soft  downy  grass  his  couch  compressed."' 

A  state  of  pure  savagism,  or  rather  of  mere  animalism,  was 
the  primitive  condition  of  man.  He  wandered  naked  in  the 
woods,  feeding  on  acorns  and  wild  fruits,  and  quenched  his 
thirst  at  the  "echoing  waterfalls,"  in  company  with  the  wild 
beast. 

Through  the  remaining  part  of  book  v.  Lucretius  describes 
how  speech  was  invented ;  how  society  originated,  and  govern- 
ments were  instituted ;  how  civilization  commenced ;  and  how 
religion  arose  out  of  ignorance  of  natural  causes  ;  how  the  arts 

*  The  doctrine  of  "  spontaneous  generations  "  is  still  more  explicitly  an- 
nounced in  book  ii.  "  Manifest  appearances  compel  us  to  believe  that  ani- 
mals, though  possessed  of  sense,  are  generated  from  senseless  atoms.  For 
you  may  observe  living  worms  proceed  from  foul  dung,  when  the  earth, 
moistened  with  immoderate  showers,  has  contracted  a  kind  of  putrescence ; 
and  you  may  see  all  other  things  change  themselves,  similarly,  into  other 
things."— Lucretius,  "  On  the  Nature  of  Things,"  bk.  i.  1.  867-880. 

^  Ether  is  the  father,  earth  the  mother  of  all  organized  being. — Id.,  ib., 
bk.  i.  1.  250-255. 

"  Id.,  ib.,  bk.  V.  1.  795-836. 


1 


440  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

of  life  were  discovered,  and  how  science  sprang  up.  And  all 
this,  as  he  is  careful  to  tell  us,  without  any  divine  instruction, 
or  any  assistance  from  the  gods. 

Such  are  the  physical  theories  of  the  Epicureans.  The  pri- 
mordial elements  of  matter  are  infinite,  eternal,  and  self-moved. 
After  ages  upon  ages  of  chaotic  strife,  the  universe  at  length 
arose  out  of  an  injitiite  number  of  atoms,  and  a  finite  number 
of  forms,  by  a  fortuitous  combination.  Plants,  animals,  and 
man  were  spontaneously  generated  from  ether  and  earth.  Lan- 
guages, society,  governments,  arts  were  gradually  developed. 
And  all  was  achieved  simply  by  blind,  unconscious  nature- 
forces,  without  any  designing,  presiding,  and  governing  Intelli- 
gence— that  is,  without  a  God. 

The  evil  genius  which  presided  over  the  method  of  Epicurus, 
and  perverted  all  his  processes  of  thought,  is  clearly  apparent. 
The  end  of  his  philosophy  was  not  the  discovery  of  truth.  He 
does  not  commence  his  inquiry  into  the  principles  or  causes 
which  are  adequate  to  the  explanation  of  the  universe,  with  an 
unprejudiced  mind.  He  everywhere  develops  a  malignant 
hostility  to  religion,  and  the  avowed  object  of  his  physical  theo- 
ries is  to  rid  the  human  mind  of  all  fear  of  supernatural  powers 
— that  is,  of  all  fear  of  God.^  ''The  phenomena  which  men 
observe  to  occur  in  the  earth  and  the  heavens,  when,  as  often 
happens,  they  are  perplexed  with  fearful  thoughts,  overawe  their 
minds  with  a  dread  of  the  gods,  and  humble  and  depress 
them  to  the  earth.  For  ignorance  of  natural  causes  obliges 
them  to  refer  all  things  to  the  power  of  the  divinities,  and  to 
resign  the  dominion  of  the  world  to  them  ;  because  of  those 
effects  they  can  by  no  means  see  the  origin,  and  accordingly 
suppose  that  they  are  produced  by  divine  influence."^ 

To  "expel  these  fancies  from  the  mind  "  as  "  inconsistent  with 
irs  tranquillity  and  opposed  to  human  happiness,"  is  the  end, 

^  "  Let  us  trample  religion  underfoot,  that  the  victory  gained  over  it  may 
place  us  on  an  equality  with  heaven"  (book  i.).  See  Diogenes  Laertius, 
"Lives  of  the  Philosophers,"  bk.  x.  ch..  xxiv.  pp.  453,454  (Bohn's  edition); 
Lucretius,  "On  the  Nature  of  Things,"  bk.  i.  1.  54-120. 

*  Lucretius,  "  On  the  Nature  of  Things,"  bk.  vi.  1.  51-60. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


441 


and,  as  Lucretius  believes,  the  glory  of  the  Epicurean  philoso- 
phy. To  accomplish  this,  God  must  be  placed  at  an  infinite 
distance  from  the  universe,  and  must  be  represented  as  indif- 
ferent to  every  thing  that  transpires  within  it.  We  "  must  be- 
ware of  making  the  Deity  interpose  here,  for  that  Being  we 
ought  to  suppose  exempt  from  all  occupation,  and  perfectly  hap- 
py,'":— that  is,  absolutely  impassible.  God  did  not  make  the 
world,  and  he  does  not  govern  the  world.  There  is  no  evi- 
dence of  design  or  intelligence  in  its  structure,  and  "  such  is 
the  faultiness  with  which  it  stands  affected,  that  it  can  not  be 
the  work  of  a  Divine  power.'"^ 

Epicurus  is,  then,  an  unmistakable  Atheist.  He  did  not  ad- 
mit a  God  in  any  rational  sense.  True,  he  professed  to  believe 
in  gods,  but  evidently  in  a  very  equivocal  manner,  and  solely 
to  escape  the  popular  condemnation.  "  They  are  not  pure 
spirits,  for  there  is  no  spirit  in  the  atomic  theory ;  they  are  not 
bodies,  for  where  are  the  bodies  that  we  may  call  gods  ?  In 
this  embarrassment,  Epicurus,  compelled  to  acknowledge  that 
the  human  race  believes  in  the  existence  of  gods,  addresses 
himself  to  an  old  theory  of  Democritus — that  is,  he  appeals  to 
dreams.  As  in  dreams  there  are  images  that  act  upon  and 
determine  in  us  agreeable  or  painful  sensations,  without  pro- 
ceeding from  exterior  bodies,  so  the  gods  are  images  similar  to 
those  of  dreams,  but  greater,  having  the  human  form ;  images 
which  are  not  precisely  bodies,  and  yet  not  deprived  of  mate- 
riality ;  which  are  whatever  you  please,  but  which,  in  short,  must 
be  admitted,  since  the  human  race  believes  in  gods,  and  since 
the  universality  of  the  religious  sentiment  is  a  fact  which  de- 
mands a  cause."^ 

It  is  needless  to  offer  any  criticism  on  the  reasoning  of  Epi- 
curus. One  fact  will  have  obviously  presented  itself  to  the 
mind  of  the  reflecting  reader.     He  starts  with  atoms  having 

^  Diogenes  Laertius,  "  Lives  of  the  Philosophers,"  bk.  x.  ch.  xxv.;  Lucre- 
tius, "  On  the  Nature  of  Things,"  bk.  i.  1.  55-60. 

'  Lucretius,  "  On  the  Nature  of  Things,"  bk.  v.  1.  195-200. 

'  Cousin's  "Lectures  on  the  History  of  Philosophy,"  vol.  i.  p.  431. 


442 


CHRISTIANITY  AND 


form,  magnitude,  and  density,  and  essays  to  construct  a  uni- 
verse ;  but  he  is  obliged  to  be  continually  introducing,  in  ad- 
dition, a  ''nameless  something''  which  "remains  in  secret,"  to 
help  him  out  in  the  explanation  of  the  phenomena.^  He  makes 
life  to  arise  out  of  dead  matter,  sense  out  of  senseless  atoms, 
consciousness  out  of  unconsciousness,  reason  out  of  unreason, 
without  an  adequate  cause,  and  thus  violates  the  fundamental 
principle  from  which  he  starts,  "  that  nothing  can  arise  from 
nothing'' 

EPICUREAN   PSYCHOLOGY. 

In  the  system  of  Epicurus,  the  soul  is  regarded  as  corporeal 
or  material,  like  the  body-;  they  form,  together,  one  nature  or 
substance.  The  soul  is  composed  of  atoms  "exceedingly  di- 
minutive, smooth,  and  round,  and  connected  with  or  diffused 
through  the  veins,  viscera,  and  nerves.  The  substance  of  the 
soul  is  not  to  be  regarded  as  simple  and  uncompounded ;  its 
constituent  parts  are  aiira^  heat,  and  air.  These  are  not  suffi- 
cient, however,  even  in  the  judgment  of  Epicurus,  to  account 
for  sensation  ;  "  they  are  not  adequate  to  generate  sensible  mo- 
tives such  as  revolve  any  thoughts  in  the  mind."  "A  certain 
fourth  nature,  or  substance,  must,  therefore,  necessarily  be  add- 
ed to  these,  that  is  wholly  without  a  name ;  it  is  a  substance, 
however,  than  which  nothing  exists  more  active  or  more  sub- 
tile, nor  is  any  thing  more  essentially  composed  of  small  and 
smooth  elementary  particles ;  and  it  is  this  substance  which 
first  distributes  sensible  motions  through  the  members."^ 

Epicurus  is  at  great  pains  to  prove  that  the  soul  is  material ; 
and  it  can  not  be  denied  that  he  marshals  his  arguments  with 
great  skill.  Modern  materialism  may  have  added  additional 
illustrations,  but  it  has  contributed  no  new  lines  of  proof.  The 
weapons  are  borrowed  from  the  old  arsenal,  and  they  are  not 
wielded  with  any  greater  skill  than  they  were  by  Epicurus 
himself,     i.  The  soul  and  the  body  act  and  react  upon  each 

*  As,  e.g.y  Lucretius,  "  On  the  Nature  of  Things,"  bk.  iii.  1.  260-290. 
'  Id.,  ib.,  bk.  iii.  1.  237-250. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


443 


other;  and  mutual  reaction  can  only  take  place  between  sub- 
stances of  similar  nature.  "  Such  effects  can  only  be  produced 
by  touchy  and  touch  can  not  take  place  without  body."^  2.  The 
mind  is  produced  together  with  the  body,  it  grows  up  along 
with  it,  and  waxes  old  at  the  same  time  with  it.'^  3.  The  mind 
is  diseased  along  with  the  body,  "it  loses  its  faculties  by  ma- 
terial causes,  as  intoxication,  or  by  severe  blows ;  and  is  some- 
times, by  a  heavy  lethargy,  borne  down  into  a  deep  eternal 
sleep."^  4.  The  mind,  like  the  body,  is  healed  by  medicines, 
which  proves  that  it  exists  only  as  a  mortal  substance."  5. 
The  mind  does  not  always,  and  at  the  same  time,  continue  e?i- 
tire  and  imimpaired^  some  faculties  decay  before  the  others, 
"  the  substance  of  the  soul  is  therefore  divided."  On  all  these 
grounds  the  soul  must  be  deemed  mortal ;  it  is  dissolved  along 
with  the  body,  and  has  no  conscious  existence  after  death. 

Such  being  the  nature  of  the  soul,  inasmuch  as  it  is  mate- 
rial, all  its  knowledge  must  be  derived  from  sensation.  The 
famous  doctrine  of  perception,  as  taught  by  Epicurus,  is  ground- 
ed upon  this  pre-supposition  that  the  soul  is  corporeal.  "  The 
e'idivXa  aTToppoiai — imagines,  simulacra  rerum,  etc.,  are,  like  pel- 
licles, continually  flying  off  from  objects ;  and  these  material 
*  likenesses,'  diffusing  themselves  everywhere  in  the  air,  are 
propelled  to  the  perceptive  organs."  These  images  of  things 
coming  in  contact  with  the  senses  produce  sensation  (aiadrjatg). 
A  sensation  may  be  considered  either  as  regards  its  object,  or 
as  regards  him  who  experiences  it.  As  regards  him  who  expe- 
riences it,  it  is  simply  a  passive  affection,  an  agreeable  or  disa- 
greeable feeling,  passion,  or  sentiment  (to  Tradog).  But  along 
with  sensation  there  is  inseparably  associated  some  knowledge 
of  the  object  which  excites  sensation;  and  it  is  for  this  reason 
that  Epicurus  marked  the  intimate  relation  of  these  two  phe- 
nomena by  giving  them  analogous  names.  Because  the  sec- 
'ond  phenomenon  is  joined  to  the  first,  he  calls  it  eiraiadritTig — 

^  Lucretius,  "On  the  Nature  of  Things,"  bk.  iii.  1.  138-168. 
.  '  Id.,  ib.,  bk.  in.  1.  444-460.  •    ^  Id.,  ib.,  bk.  iii.  1.  438-490. 

*  Id.,  ib.,  bk.  iii.  1.  500-520. 


444  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

perception.  It  is  sensation  viewed  especially  in  regard  to  its 
object — representative  se?isatio?t,  or  the  "sensible  idea"  of  mod- 
ern philosophy.  It  is  from  perception  that  we  draw  our  gen- 
eral ideas  by  a  kind  of  prolepsis  (7rpoX?/\//te) — an  anticipation  or 
laying  hold  by  reason  of  that  which  is  implied  in  sensation. 
Now  all  sensations  are  alike  true  in  so  far  as  they  are  sensa- 
tions, and  error  arises  from  false  reasoning  about  the  testimony 
of  sense.  All  knowledge  is  purely  relative  and  contingent, 
and  there  is  no  such  thing  as  necessary  and  absolute  truth. 

The  system  of  Epicurus  is  thus  a  system  of  pure  material- 
ism, but  not  a  system  of  materialism  drawn,  as  a  logical  conse- 
quence, from  a  careful  and  unprejudiced  study  of  the  whole 
phenomena  of  mind.  His  openly  avowed  design  is  to  deliver 
men  from  the  fear  of  death,  and  rid  tliem  of  all  apprehension 
of  a  future  retribution.  "  Did  men  but  know  that  there  was  a 
fixed  limit  to  their  woes,  they  would  be  able,  in  some  measure, 
to  defy  the  religious  fictions  and  menaces  of  the  poets ;  but 
now,  since  we  must  fear  eternal  punishment  at  death,  there  is 
no  mode,  no  means  of  resisting  them."^  To  emancipate  men 
from  "  these  terrors  of  the  mind,"  they  must  be  taught  "  that 
the  soul  is  mortal,  and  dissolves  with  the  body  " — that  "  death 
is  nothing  to  us,  for  that  which  is  dissolved  is  devoid  of  sensa- 
tion, and  that  which  is  devoid  of  sensation  is  nothing  to  us."^ 
Starting  with  the  fixed  determination  to  prove  that 

"Death  is  nothing,  and  naught  after  death," 

he  will  not  permit  any  mental  phenomena  to  suggest  to  him 
the  idea  of  an  incorporeal  spiritual  substance.  Matter,  under 
any  form  known  to  Epicurus,  is  confessedly  insufficient  to  ex- 
plain sensation  and  thought ;  a  "  nameless  something "  must 
be  supposed.  But  may  not  "that  principle  which  lies  entirely 
hid,  and  remains  in  secref^^ — and  about  which  even  Epicurus 

^  Lucretius,  "On  the  Nature  of  Things,"  bk.  i.  1.  100-118. 
'^  Diogenes  Laertius,  Maxim  2,  in  "Lives  of  the  Philosophers,"  bk.  x.  ch. 
xxxi. 

^  Lucretius,  "  On  the  Nature  of  Things,"  bk.  iii.  1.  275-280. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  445 

does  not  know  any  thing — be  a  spiritual,  aVi  immaterial  princi- 
ple ?  For  aught  that  he  knows  it  may  as  properly  be  called 
''^  spirit  ^^  as  matter.  May  not  sensatioft  and  cognition  be  the  re- 
sult of  the  union  of  matter  and  spirit ;  and  if  so,  may  not  their 
mutual  affections,  their  common  sympathies,  be  the  necessary 
conditions  of  sensation  and  cognition  in  the  present  life  ?  A 
reciprocal  relation  between  body  and  mind  appears  in  all  men- 
tal phenomena.  A  certain  proportion  in  this  relation  is  called 
mental  health.  A  deviation  from  it  is  termed  disease.  This 
proportion  is  by  no  means  an  equilibrium,  but  the  perfect 
adaptation  of  the  body,  without  injury  to  its  integrity,  to  the 
purposes  of  the  mind.  And  if  this  be  so,  all  the  arguments  of 
materialism  fall  to  the  ground. 

The  concluding  portion  of  the  third  book,  in  which  Lucre- 
tius discourses  on  death,  is  a  mournful  picture  of  the  condition 
of  the  heathen  mind  before  Christianity  "  brought  life  and  im- 
mortality fully  to  light."  It  comes  to  us,  like  a  voice  from  the 
grave  of  two  thousand  years,  to  prove  they  were  "without 
hope."  To  be  delivered  from  the  fear  of  future  retribution, 
they  would  sacrifice  the  hope  of  an  immortal  life.  To  extin- 
tinguish  guilt  they  would  annihilate  the  soul.  The  only  way 
in  which  Lucretius  can  console  man  in  prospect  of  death  is, 
by  reminding  him  that  he  will  escape  the  ills  of  life. 

" '  But  thy  dear  home  shall  never  greet  thee  more ! 
No  more  the  best  of  wives  ! — thy  babes  beloved, 
Whose  haste  half-met  thee,  emulous  to  snatch 
The  dulcet  kiss  that  roused  thy  secret  soul, 
Again  shall  never  hasten  !— nor  thine  arm,* 
With  deeds  heroic,  guard  thy  country's  weal ! — 
Oh  mournful,  mournful  fate  !'  thy  friends  exclaim ! 
'  One  envious  hour  of  these  invalued  joys 
Robs  thee  forever  !' — But  they  add  not  here, 
*  It  robs  thee,  too,  of  all  desire  of  joy ' — 
A  truth,  once  uttered,  that  the  mind  would  free 
From  every  dread  and  trouble.     *  Thou  art  safe  ! 
The  sleep  of  death  protects  thee,  and  secures 
From  all  the  unnumbered  woes  of  mortal  life ! 
While  we,  alas  !  the  sacred  urn  around 
That  holds  thine  ashes,  shall  insatiate  weep, 
Nor  time  destroy  the  eternal  grief  we  feel !' 


446  CHBISTIANITY  AND 

What,  then,  tias  death,  if  death  be  mere  repose, 
And  quiet  only  in  a  peaceful  grave, — 
What  has  it  thus  to  mar  this  life  of  man  ?"^ 

This  is  all  the  comfort  that  Epicureanism  can  offer ;  and  if 
"  the  wretch  still  laments  the  approach  of  death,"  she  addresses 
him  "  with  voice  severe  " — 

"  Vile  coward  !  dry  thine  eyes — 
Hence  with  thy  snivelling  sorrows,  and  depart !" 

It  is  evident  that  such  a  system  of  philosophy  outrages  the 
purest  and  noblest  sentiments  of  humanity,  and,  in  fact,  con- 
demns itself.  It  was  born  of  selfishness  and  social  degeneracy, 
and  could  perpetuate  itself  only  in  an  age  of  corruption,  because 
it  inculcated  the  lawfulness  of  sensuality  and  the  impunity  of 
injustice.  Its  existence  at  this  precise  period  in  Grecian  his- 
tory forcibly  illustrates  the  truth,  that  Atheism  is  a  disease  of 
the  heart  rather  than  the  head.  It  seeks  to  set  man  free  to 
follow  his  own  inclinations,  by  ridding  him  of  all  faith  in  a 
Divinity  and  in  an  immortal  life,  and  thus  exonerating  him 
from  all  accountability  and  all  future  retribution.  But  it  failed 
to  perceive  that,  in  the  most  effectual  manner,  it  annihilated 
all  real  liberty,  all  true  nobleness,  and  made  of  man  an  abject 
slave. 

STOICISM. 

The  Stoical  school  was  founded  by  Zeno  of  Citium,  who 
flourished  e.g.  290.  He  taught  in  the  Stoa  Pcecile,  or  Painted 
Porch ;  and  his  disciples  thence  derived  the  name  of  Stoics. 
Zeno  was  succeeded  by  Cleanthes  (b.c.  260) ;  and  Cleanthes 
by  Chrysippus  (b.c.  240),  whose  vigorous  intellect  gave  unity 
and  completeness  to  the  Stoical  philosophy.  He  is  reported 
to  have  said  to  Cleanthes, — "Give  me  your  doctrines,  and  I 
will  find  the  demonstrations.'"* 

None  of  the  writings  of  the  early  Stoics,  save  a  "  Hymn  to 
Jupiter,"  by  Cleanthes,  have  survived.    We  are  chiefly  indebted 

'  Lucretius,  "  On  the  Nature  of  Things,"  bk.  iii.  1.  906-926.      • 
"  Diogenes  Laertius,  "  Lives  of  the  Philosophers,"  bk.  vii.  ch.  vii. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  447 

to  Diogenes  Laertius  *  and  Cicero  ^  for  an  insight  into  their 
system.  The  Hymn  of  Cleanthes  sheds  some  light  on  their 
Theology,  and  their  moral  principles  are  exhibited  in  "The 
Fragments  "  of  Epictetus,  and  "  The  Life  and  Meditations  "  of 
Marcus  Aurelius. 

The  philosophy  of  the  Stoics,  like  that  of  the  Epicureans, 
was  mainly  a  philosophy  of  life — that  is,  a  moral  philosophy. 
The  manner  in  which  they  approached  the  study  of  morals,  and 
the  principles  upon  which  they  grounded  morality,  were,  how- 
ever, essentially  different. 

The  grand  object  of  Epicurus  was  to  make  the  current  of 
life  flow  on  as  comfortably  as  possible,  without  any  distracting 
thoughts  of  the  past  or  any  disturbing  visions  of  the  future. 
He  therefore  starts  with  this  fundamental  principle,  that  the 
trile  philosophy  of  life  is  to  enjoy  one's  self — the  aim  of  exist- 
ence is  to  be  happy.  Whatever  in  a  man's  beliefs  or  conduct 
tends  to  secure  happiness  is  right ;  whatever  awakens  uneasi- 
ness, apprehension,  or  fear,  is  wrong.  And  inasmuch  as  the 
idea  of  a  Divine  Creator  and  Governor  of  the  universe,  and 
the  belief  in  a  future  life  and  retribution,  are  uncomfortable 
thoughts,  exciting  superstitious  fears,  they  ought  to  be  rejected. 
The  Physics  and  the  Psychology  of  Epicurus  are  thus  the  nat- 
ural outgrowth  of  his  Morality. 

Zeno  was  evidently  a  more  earnest,  serious,  and  thoughtful 
man.  He  cherished  a  nobler  ideal  of  life  than  to  suppose 
"  man  must  do  voluntarily,  what  the  brute  does  instinctively — 
eschew  pain,  and  seek  pleasure."  He  therefore  seeks  to  ascer- 
tain whether  there  be  not  some  "  principle  of  nature,"  or  some 
law  of  nature,  which  determines  what  is  right  in  human  action 
— whether  there  be  not  some  light  under  which,  on  contem- 
plating an  action,  we  may  at  once  pronounce  upon  its  intrinsic 
rightness,  or  otherwise.  This  he  believes  he  has  found  in  the 
universal  reason  which  fashioned,  and  permeates,  and  vivifies 
tEe  universe,  and  is  the  light  and  life  of  the  human  soul.    "The 

'  "  Lives  of  the  Philosophers,"  bk.  vii. 
"^  "  De  Fin./'  and  "  De  Natura  Deorum." 


448  CHlilSTIANITY  AND 

chief  good  is,  confessedly,  to  live  according  to  nature  ;  which  is 

to  live  according  to  virtue,  for  nature  leads  us  to  that  point 

For  our  individual  natures  are  all  part  of  the  universal  na- 
ture ;  on  which  account,  the  chief  good  is  to  live  in  a  manner 
corresponding  to  one's  own  nature,  and  to  universal  nature  ; 
doing  none  of  those  things  which  the  common  law  of  mankind 
(the  universal  conscience  of  our  race)  forbids.  That  common 
law  is  idefitical  with  right  reason  which  pervades  every  things 
l?ei?ig  the  same  with  Jupiter  (Zevg),  who  is  the  regulator  and  chief 
mafiager  of  all  existing  tlwigs^^  The  foundation  of  the  ethical 
system  of  the  Stoics  is  thus  laid  in  their  philosophy  of  nature 
— their  Physiology  and  Psychology.  If,  therefore,  we  would 
apprehend  the  logical  connection  and  unity  of  Stoicism,  we 
must  follow  their  order  of  thought — that  is,  we  must  commence 
with  their 

PHYSIOLOGY. 

Diogenes  Laertius  tells  us  that  the  Stoics  held  "  that  there 
are  two  general  principles  in  the  universe — the  passive  princi- 
ple {to  7rd(Txoy),  which  is  matter,  an  existence  without  any  dis- 
tinctive quality,  and  the  active  principle  (to  ttoiovv),  which  is 
the  reason  existing  in  the  passive,  that  is  to  say,  God.  For 
that  He,  being  eternal,  and  existing  throughout  all  matter, 
makes  every  thing."*  This  Divine  Reason,  acting  upon  mat- 
ter, originates  the  necessary  and  unchangeable  laws  which  gov- 
ern matter — laws  which  the  Stoics  called  Xuyoi  awepiiaTiKoi — 
generating  reasons  or  causes  of  things.  The  laws  of  the  world 
are,  like  eternal  reason,  necessary  and  immutable  ;  hence  the 
eijjLapjjiivr] — the  Destiny  of  the  Stoics,  which  is  also  one  of  the 
names  of  the  Deity.'  But  by  Destiny  the  Stoics  could  not 
understand  a  blind  unconscious  necessity;  it  is  rather  the 
highest  reason  in  the  universe.     "  Destiny  (eluapfiiyr))  is  a  con- 

*  Diogenes  Laertius,  "  Lives  of  the  Philosophers,"  bk.  vii.  ch.  liii. 
^  Id.,  ib.,  bk.  vii.  ch.  Ixviii. 

^  "  They  teach  that  God  is  unity,  and  that  he  is  called  Mind,^  and  Fate, 
and  Jupiter." — Id.,  ib.,  bk.  vii.  ch.  Ixviil 


OREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  449 

nected  {Eipofiivri)  cause  of  things,  or  the  reason  according  to 
which  the  world  is  regulated.'" 

These  two  principles  are  not,  however,  regarded  by  the  Sto- 
ics as  having  a  distinct,  separate,  and  independent  existence. 
One  is  substance  (oytrm) ;  the-  other  is  quality  (Trotoi?).  The 
primordial  matter  is  the  passive  ground  of  all  existence — the 
original  substratum  for  the  Divine  activity.  The  Divine  Rea- 
son is  the  active  or  formative  energy  which  dwells  within,  and 
is  essentially  united  to,  the  primary  substance.  The  Stoics, 
therefore,  regarded  all  existence  as  reducible,  in  its  last  analy- 
sis, to  one  substance^  which  on  the  side  of  it&  passivity  and  ca- 
pacity of  change,  they  called  hyle  (vXtj)  f  and  on  the  side  of  its 

^  Diogenes  Laertius,  "Lives  of  the  Philosophers,"  bk.  vii.  ch.  Ixxiv. 

^  Or  "  matter."  A  good  deal  of  misapprehension  has  arisen  from  con- 
founding the  intellectual  v7.tj  of  Aristotle  and  the  Stoics  with  the  gross  phys- 
ical "  matter  "  of  the  modern  physicist.  By  "  matter  "  we  now  understand 
that  which  is  corporeal,  tangible,  sensible ;  whereas  by  vlrji  Aristotle  and 
the  Stoics  (who  borrowed  the  term  from  him)  understood  that  which  is  in- 
corporeal, intangible,  and  inapprehensible  to  sense, — an  "  unknown  some- 
thing "  which  must  necessarily  be  supposed  as  the  condition  of  the  existence 
of  things.  The  formal  cause  of  Aristotle  is  "  the  substance  and  essence  " — 
the  primary  nature  of  things,  on  which  all  their  properties  depend.  The  ma- 
terial cause  is  "  the  matter  or  subject "  through  which  the  primary  nature 
manifests  itself.  Unfortunately  the  term  "  material "  misleads  the  modern 
thinker.  He  is  in  danger  of  supposing  the  hyle  of  Aristotle  to  be  something 
sensible  and  physical,  whereas  it  is  an  intellectual  principle  whose  inherence 
is  implied  in  any  physical  thing.  It  is  something  distinct  from  body,  and  has 
none  of  those  properties  we  are  now  accustomed  to  ascribe  to  matter.  Body, 
corporeity,  is  the  result  of  the  union  of  "  hyle  "  and  "  form."  Stobaaus  thus 
expounds  the  doctrine  of  Aristotle  :  Form  alone,  separate  from  matter  {vItj) 
is  incorporeal ;  so  matter  alone,  separated  from  form,  is  not  body.  But  there 
is  need  of  the  joint  concurrence  of  both  these— matter  and  form— to  make 
the  substance  of  body."  Every  individual  substance  is  thus  a  totality  of 
matter  and  form — a  aivo?Mv. 

The  Stoics  taught  that  God  is  oneliness  (Diogenes  Laertius,  "Lives  of  the 
Philosophers,"  bk.  vii.  ch.  Ixviii.) ;  that  he  is  eternal  and  immortal  (bk.  vii. 
ch.  Ixxii.);  he  could  not,  therefore,  be  corporeal,  for  "body  \s finite,  divisi- 
ble, ^xA  perishable''''  (bk.  vii.  ch.  Ixxvii.).  "All  the  parts  of  the  world  are  per- 
ishable, for  they  change  one  into  another ;  therefore  the  world  is  perish- 
able" (bk.  vii.  ch.  Ixx.).  The  Deity  is  not,  therefore,  absolutely  identified 
with  the  world  by  the  Stoics.  He  permeates  all  things,  creates  and  dis- 
solves all  things,  and  is,  therefore,  more  than  all  things.  The  world  is  finite ; 
God  is  infinite. 

29 


450  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

changeless  energy  and  immutable  order^  they  calle<?l  God.  The 
corporeal  world — physical  nature — is  "a  peculiar  manifesta- 
tion "  of  God,  generated  from  his  own  substance,  and,  after  cer- 
tain periods,  absorbed  in  himself.  Thus  God,  considered  in 
the  evolution  of  His  power,  is  nature.  And  nature,  as  attached 
to  its  immanent  principle,  is  called  God.^  The  fundamental 
doctrine  of  the  Stoics  was  a  spiritual,  ideal,  intellectual  panthe- 
ism, of  which  the  proper  formula  is,  All  things  are  God,  but  God 
is  not  all  things. 

Schwegler  affirms  that,  in  physics,  the  Stoics,  for  the  most 
part,  followed  Heraclitus,  and  especially  "  carried  out  the  prop- 
osition that  nothing  incorporeal  exists ;  every  thing  is  essen- 
tially corporeal"  The  pantheism  of  Zeno  is  therefore  "  mate- 
rialistic.'''^ This  is  not  a  just  representation  of  the  views  of  the 
early  Stoics,  and  can  not  be  sustained  by  a*  fair  interpretation 
of  their  teaching.  "  They  say  that  principles  and  elements  dif- 
fer from  each  other.  Principles  have  no  generation  or  begin- 
ning, and  will  have  no  end  ;  but  elements  may  be  destroyed. 
Also,  that  elements  have  bodies,  and  have  forms,  but  principles 
have  no  bodies,  and  no  forms. ''^  Principles  are,  therefore,  incor- 
poreal. Furthermore,  Cicero  tells  us  that  they  taught  that  the 
universal  harmony  of  the  world  resulted  from  all  things  being 
"  contained  by  one  Divine  Spirit  ;"*  and  also,  that  reason  in 
man  is  "  nothing  else  but  part  of  the  Divine  Spirit  merged  into 
a  human  body."^  It  thus  seems  evident  that  the  Stoics  made 
a  distinction  between  corruptible  elemeftts  (fire,  air,  earth,  water) 
and  incorruptible  principles,  by  which  and  out  of  which  elements 
were  generated,  and  also  between  corporeal  and  incorporeal 
substances. 

On  a  careful  collation  of  the  fragmentary  remains  of  the 
early  Stoics,  we  fancy  we  catch  glimpses  of  the  theory  held  by 
some  modern  pantheists,  that  the  material  elements,  "  having 

*  Diogenes  Laertius,  "  Lives  of  the  Philosophers,"  bk.  vii.  ch.  Ixx. 
'  Schwegler's  "  History  of  Philosophy,"  p.  140. 

®  Diogenes  Laertius,  "Lives  of  the  Philosophers,"  bk.  vii.  ch.  Ixviii. 

*  "  De  Natura  Deorum,"  bk.  ii.  ch.  xiii.  ^  Ibid,  bk.  ii.  ch.  xxxi. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  451 

body  and  form,"  are  a  vital  transformation  of  the  Divine  sub- 
stance ;  and  that  the  forces  of  nature — "  the  generating  causes 
or  reasons  of  things  "  (\oyoi  (nrepfiaTiKoi) — are  a  conscious  trans- 
mutation of  the  Divine  energy.  This  theory  is  more  than 
hinted  in  the  following  passages,  which  we  slightly  transpose 
from  the  order  in  which  they  stand  in  Diogenes  Laertius,  with- 
out altering  their  meaning.     "  They  teach  that  the  Deity  was 

in  the  beginning  by  himself'^ that  "  first  of  all,  he  made 

the  four  elements,  fire,  water,  air,  and  earth."  "  The  fire  is  the 
highest,  and  that  is  called  aether,  in  which,  first  of  all,  the 
sphere  was  generated  in  which  the  fixed  stars  are  set ... ; 
after  that  the  air ;  then  the  water  \  and  the  sediment,  as  it  were, 
of  all,  is  the  earth,  which  is  placed  in  the  centre  of  the  rest." 
"He  turned  into  water  the  whole  substance  which  pervaded 
the  air ;  and  as  the  seed  is  contained  in  the  product,  so,  too, 
He,  being  the  seminal  principle  of  the  world,  remained  still  in 
moisture,  making  matter  fit  to  be  employed  by  himself  in  the 
production  of  things  which  were  to  come  after. "^  The  Deity 
thus  draws  the  universe  out  of  himself,  transmuting  the  divine 
substance  into  body  and  form.  "God  is  a  being  of  a  certain 
-quality,  having  for  his  peculiar  manifestation  universal  sub- 
stance. He  is  a  being  imperishable,  and  who  never  had  any 
generation,  being  the  maker  of  the  arrangement  and  order  that 
we  see  ;  and  who  at  certain  periods  of  time  absorbs  all  sub- 
stance in  himself  and  then  reproduces  it  from  himself P"^  And 
now,  in  the  last  analysis,  it  would  seem  as  though  every  thing 
is  resolved  into  force.  God  and  the  world  are  power,  and  its 
manifestation,  and  these  are  ultimately  one.  "This  identifi- 
cation of  God  and  the  world,  according  to  which  the  Stoics 
regarded  the  whole  formation  of  the  universe  as  but  a  period 
in  the  development  of  God,  renders  their  remaining  doctrine 
concerning  the  world  very  simple.  Every  thing  in  the  world 
seemed  to  be  permeated  by  the  Divine  life,  and  was  regarded 
as  the  flowing  out  of  this   most  perfect  life  through  certain 

'  Diogenes  Laertius,  "  Lives  of  the  Philosophers,"  bk.  vii.  ch.  Ixviii.,  Ixix. 
"^  Id.,  ib.,  bk.  vii.  ch.  Ixx. 


452  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

channels,  until    it    returns,   in    a   necessary   circle,  back   to 
itself."' 

The  God  of  the  Stoics  is  not,  however,  a  mere  principle  of 
life  vitalizing  nature,  but  an  intelligent  principle  directing  na- 
ture ;  and,  above  all,  a  moral  principle,  governing  the  human 
race.  "  God  is  a  living  being,  immortal,  rational,  perfect,  and 
intellectual  in  his  happiness,  unsusceptible  of  any  kind  of  evil ; 
having  a  foreknowledge  of  the  world,  and  of  all  that  is  in  the 
world.""  He  is  also  the  gracious  Providence  which  cares  for 
the  individual  as  well  as  for  the  whole ;  and  he  is  the  author  of 
that  natural  law  which  commands  the  good  and  prohibits  the 
bad.  "  He  made  men  to  this  end  that  they  might  be  happy ; 
as  becomes  his  fatherly  care  of  us,  he  placed  our  good  and 
evil  in  those  things  which  are  in  our  own  power."^  The  Provi- 
dence and  Fatherhood  of  God  are  strikingly  presented  in  the 
"  Hymn  of  Cleanthes  "  to  Jupiter — 

"  Most  glorious  of  the  immortal  Powers  above ! 
O  thou  of  many  names  !  mysterious  Jove  ! 
For  evermore  almighty  !     Nature's  source  ! 
Thou  governest  all  things  in  their  order'd  course ! 
'     All  hail  to  thee  !  since,  innocent  of  blame, 
E'en  mortal  creatures  may  address  thy  name; 
For  all  that  breathe,  and  creep  the  lowly  earth, 
Echo  thy  being  with  reflected  birth — 
Thee  will  I  sing,  thy  strength  for  aye  resound : 
The  universe,  that  rolls  this  globe  around. 
Moves  wheresoe'er  thy  plastic  influence  guides, 
And,  ductile,  owns  the  god  whose  arm  presides. 
The  lightnings  are  thy  ministers  of  ire ; 
The  double-forked  and  ever-living  fire; 
In  thy  unconquerable  hands  they  glow, 
And  at  the  flash  all  nature  quakes  below. 
Thus,  thunder-armed,  thou  dost  creation  draw 
To  one  immense,  inevitable  law : 
And,  with  the  various  mass  of  breathing  souls, 
Thy  power  is  mingled,  and  thy  spirit  rolls. 
Dread  genius  of  creation !  all  things  bow 
To  thee :  the  universal  monarch  thou ! 

*  Schwegler's  "  History  of  Philosophy,"  p.  141. 

^  Diogenes  Laertius,  "Lives  of  the  Philosophers,"  bk.  vii.  ch.  Ixxii. 

^  Marcus  Aurelius,  bk.  ill  ch.  xxiv. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  453 

Nor  aught  is  done  without  thy  wise  control, 
On  earth,  or  sea,  or  round  the  ethereal  pole, 
Save  when  the  wicked,  in  their  frenzy  blind, 
Act  o'er  the  follies  of  a  senseless  mind. 
Thou  curb'st  th'  excess ;  confusion,  to  thy  sight, 
Moves  regular ;  th'  unlovely  scene  is  bright. 
Thy  hand,  educing  good  from  evil,  brings 
To  one  apt  harmony  the  strife  of  things. 
One  ever-during  law  still  binds  the  whole. 
Though  shunned,  resisted,  by  the  sinner's  soul. 
Wretches !  while  still  they  course  the  glittering  prize, 
The  law  of  God  eludes  their  ears  and  eyes. 
Life,  then,  were  virtue,  did  they  thus  obey ; 
But  wide  from  life's  chief  good  they  headlong  stray : 
Now  glory's  arduous  toils  the  breast  inflame ; 
Now  avarice  thirsts,  insensible  of  shame ; 
Now  sloth  unnerves  them  in  voluptuous  ease, 
And  the  sweet  pleasures  of  the  body  please. 
With  eager  haste  they  rush  the  gulf  within. 
And  their  whole  souls  are  centred  in  their  sin. 
But,  oh,  great  Jove !  by  whom  all  good  is  given ! 
Dweller  with  lightnings  and  the  clouds  of  heaven ! 
Save  from  their  dreadful  error  lost  mankind ! 
Father  !  disperse  these  shadows  of  the  mind  ! 
Give  them  thy  pure  and  righteous  law  to  know; 
Wherewith  thy  justice  governs  all  below. 
Thus  honored  by  the  knowledge  of  thy  way. 
Shall  men  that  honor  to  thyself  repay ; 
And  bid  thy  mighty  works  in  praises  ring. 
As  well  befits  a  mortal's  lips  to  sing : 
More  blest,  nor  men,  nor  heavenly  powers  can  be, 
Than  when  their  songs  are  of  thy  law  and  thee.'" 
» 
PSYCHOLOGY. 

As  in  the  world  there  are  two  principles,  the  passive  and 
the  active,  so  in  the  understanding  there  are  two  elements :  a 
passive  element — sensation,  and  an  active  element — reason. 

All  knowledge  commences  with  the  phenomena  of  sensation 
(aiffdriffiQ).  This  produces  in  the  soiil  an  image  ((pavraala), 
which  corresponds  to  the  exterior  object,  and  which  Chrysip- 
pus  regarded  as  a  modification  of  the  mind  (aXXo/wo-tc)."    Asso- 

*  Sir  C.  A.  Elton's  version,  published  in  "  Specimens  of  Ancient  Poets," 
edited  by  William  Peters,  A.  M.,  Christ  Church,  Oxford. 

*  Diogenes  Laertius,  "  Lives  of  the  Philosophers,"  bk.  vii.  ch.  xxxiv. 


454  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

ciate  with  sensibility  is  thought — the  faculty  of  general  ideas — 
the  o^QuQ  Xoyoc,  or  right  reason,  as  the  supreme  power  and  the 
guiding  light  of  humanity.  This  active  principle  is  of  divine 
origin,  "  a  part  or  shred  of  the  Divinjty." 

This  "right  reason,"  or  "common  reason,"  is  the  source 
and  criterion  of  all  truth ;  "  for  our  individual  natures  are  all 
parts  of  the  universal  nature,"  and,  therefore,  all  the  dictates 
of  "common  reason"  are  "identical  with  that  right  reason 
which  pervades  every  thing,  being  the  same  with  Jupiter,  who 
is  the  regulator  and  chief  manager  of  all  things." 

The  fundamental  canon  of  the  logic  of  the  Stoics,  therefore, 
was  that  "  what  appears  to  all,  that  is  to  be  believed,  for  it  is 
apprehended  by  the  reason,  which  is  common  and  Divine." 

It  is  needless  to  remark  that  the  Stoics  were  compelled  by 
their  physiological  theory  to  deny  the  proper  immortality  of  the 
soul.  Some  of  them  seem  to  have  supposed  that  it  might,  for 
a  season,  survive  the  death  of  the  body,  but  its  ultimate  desti- 
nation was  absorption  into  the  Divine  essence.  It  must  re- 
turn to  its  original  source.  , 

ETHICS. 

If  reason  be  the  great  organizing  and  controlling  law  of  the 
universe,  then,  to  live  conformable  to  reason  is  the  great  prac- 
tical law  of  life.  Accordingly,  the  fundamental  ethical  maxim 
of  the  Stoics  is,  "  Live  conformably  with  nature — that  is,  with 
reason,  or  the  will  of  the  universal  governor  and  manager  of  all 
things."^  Thus  the  chief  good  (evhaijuiovia)  is  the  conformity 
of  man's  actions  to  reason — that  is,  to  the  will  of  God,  "  for 
nothing  is  well  done  without  a  reference  to  God."^ 

It  is  obvious  that  this  doctrine  must  lead  to  a  social  moral- 
ity and  a  jurisprudence  the  very  opposite  of  the  Epicurean. 
If  we  must  do  that  which  is  good — that  is,  that  which  is  rea- 
sonable, regardless  of  all  consequences,  then  it  is  not  for  the 
pleasurable  or  useful  results  which  flow  from  it  that  justice 

*  Diogenes  Laertius,  "Lives  of  the  Philosophers,"  bk.  vii.  ch.  liii. 
^  Marcus  Aurelius,  bk.  iii.  §  ii. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY,  455 

should  be  practised,  but  because  of  its  intrinsic  excellence. 
Justice  is  constituted  good,  not  by  the  law  of  man,  but  by.  the 
law  of  God.  The  highest  pleasure  is  to  do  right;  "this  very 
thing  is  the  virtue  of  the  happy  man,  and  the  perfect  happiness 
of  life,  when  every  thing  is  done  according  to  a  harmony  of  the 
genius  of  each  individual  to  the  will  of  the  Universal  Governor 
and  Manager  of  all  things."^  Every  thing  which  interferes 
with  a  purely  rational  existence  is  to  be  eschewed  j  the  pleas- 
ures and  pains  of  the  body  are  to  be  despised.  To  triumph 
over  emotion,  over  suffering,  over  passion ;  to  give  the  fullest 
ascendency  to  reason ;  to  attain  courage,  moral  energy,  mag- 
nanimity, constancy,  was  to  realize  true  manhood,  nay,  "  to  be 
godlike ;  for  they  have  something  in  them  which  is,  as  it  were, 
a  god."^ 

The  sublime  heroism  of  the  Stoic  school  is  well  expressed 
in  the  manly  precept,  "  'Avexo«5 " — sustme—^Qx\<lux3.  "  Endure 
the  sorrows  engendered  by  the  bitter  struggle  between  the  pas- 
sions ;  support  all  the  evils  which  fortune  shall  send  thee — 
calumny,  betrayal,  poverty,  exile,  irons,  death  itself."  In  Epic- 
tetus  and  Marcus  Aurelius  this  spirit  seems  to  rise  almost  to 
the  grandeur  of  Christian  resignation.  "  Dare  to  lift  up  thine 
eyes  to  God  and  say,  *  Use  me  hereafter  to  whatsoever  thou 
pleasest.  I  agree,  and  am  of  the  same  mind  with  thee,  indif- 
ferent to  all  things.  Lead  me  whither  thou  pleasest.  Let  me 
act  what  part  thou  wilt,  either  of  a  public  or  a  private  person, 
of  a  rich  man  or  a  beggar.'  "^  "  Show  those  qualities,"  says 
Marcus  Aurelius,  "  which  God  hath  put  in  thy  power — sincerity, 
gravity,  endurance  of  labor,  aversion  to  pleasure,  contentment 
with  thy  portion  and  with  few  things,  benevolence,  frankness, 
no  love  of  superfluity,  freedom  from  trifling,  magnanimity."* 

*  Diogenes  Laertius,  "  Lives  of  the  Philosophers,"  bk.  vii.  ch.  liii. 
'  Id,  ib.,  bk.  vii.  ch.  xliv. 

'  Arrian,  "  Diss.  Epict.,"  bk.  ii.  ch.  xviii. 

*  "  I  read  to-day  part  of  the  *  Meditations  of  Marcus  Antonius '  [Aure- 
lius]. What  a  strange  emperor  !  And  what  a  strange  heathen  !  Giving 
thanks  to  God  for  all  the  good  things  he  enjoyed  !  In  particular  for  his 
good  inspirations,  and  for  twice  revealing  to  him,  in  dreams,  things  where- 


4S6  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

Amid  the  fearful  moral  degeneracy  of  imperial  Rome,  Stoi- 
cism became  the  refuge  of  all  noble  spirits.  But,  in  spite  of  its 
severity,  and  its  apparent  triumph  over  the  feelings,  it  brought 
no  real  freedom  and  peace.  "  Stoical  morality,  strictly  speak- 
ing, is,  at  bottom,  only  a  slavish  morality,  excellent  in  Epicte- 
tus ;  admirable  still,  but  useless  to  the  world,  in  Marcus  Aure- 
lius."  Pride  takes  the  place  of  real  disinterestedness.  It 
stands  alone  in  haughty  grandeur  and  solitary  isolation,  tainted 
with  an  incurable  egoism.  Disheartened  by  its  metaphysical 
impotence,  which  robs  God  of  all  personality,  and  man  of  all 
hope  of  immortality ;  defeated  in  its  struggle  to  obtain  purity 
of  soul,  it  sinks  into  despair,  and  often  terminates,  as  in  the 
case  of  its  two  first  leaders,  Zeno  and  Cleanthes,  and  the  two 
Romans,  Cato  and  Seneca,  in  self-murder.  "  Thus  philosophy 
is  only  an  apprenticeship  of  death,  and  not  of  life ;  it  tends  to 
death  by  its  image,  apathy  and  ataraxy^^ 

by  he  was  cured  of  (otherwise)  incurable  distempers.  I  make  no  doubt  but 
this  is  one  of  the  *  many '  who  *  shall  come  from  the  east  and  the  west,  and 
sit  down  with  Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob,'  while  the  '  children  of  the  king- 
dom'— nominal  Christians  —  are  'shut  out'" — Wesley's  "Journal,"'  vol.  i. 
p.  353- 

^  Cousin's  *'  Lectures  on  the  History  of  Philosophy,"  vol.  i.  p.  439. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  457 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE   PROPEDEUTIC   OFFICE   OF   GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

"Philosophy,  before  the  coming  of  the  Lord,  was  necessary  to  the 
Greeks  for  righteousness,  and  it  now  proved  useful  for  godliness,  being  in 
some  part  a  preliminary  discipline  (TTgoTcaidda  tiq  ovaa)  for  those  who  reap 
the  fruits  of  faith  through  demonstration.  Perhaps  we  may  say  it  was  given 
to  the  Greeks  with  this  special  object ;  for  philosophy  was  to  the  Greeks 
what  the  Law  was  to  the  Jews,  *  a  schoolmaster  to  bring  them  to  Christ.'  " 
— Clemens  Alexandrinus. 

PHILOSOPHY,  says  Cousin,  is  the  effort  of  reflection— ihe^ 
attempt  of  the  human  mind  to  develop  in  systematic  and 
logical  form  that  which  has  dimly  revealed  itself  in  the  sponta- 
neous thought  of  ages,  and  to  account  to  itself  in  some  manner 
for  its  native  and  instinctive  beliefs.  We  may  further  add,  it 
is  the  effort  of  the  human  mind  to  attain  to  truth  and  certitude 
on  purely  rational  grounds,  uncontrolled  by  traditional  au- 
thorities. The  sublime  era  of  Greek  philosophy  was,  in  fact, 
an  independent  effort  of  human  reason  to  solve  the  great  prob- 
lems of  existence,  of  knowledge,  and  of  duty.  It  was  an  at- 
tempt to  explain  the  phenomenal  history  of  the  universe,  to  in- 
terpret the  fundamental  ideas  and  laws  of  human  reason,  to 
comprehend  the  utterances  of  conscience,  and  to  ascertain 
what  Ultimate  and  Supreme  Reality  underlies  the  world  of 
phenomena,  of  thought,  and  of  moral  feeling.^  And  it  is  this 
which,  for  us,  constitutes  its  especial  value ;  that  it  was,  as  far 
as  possible,  a  result  of  simple  reason ;  or,  if  at  any  time  Faith 
asserted  its  authority,  the  distinction  is  clearly  marked.  If 
this  inquiry  was  fully,  and  honestly,  and  logically  conducted, 

*  Plato  sought  also  to  attain  to  the  Ultimate  Reality  underlying  all  aesthet- 
ic feeling — the  Supreme  Beauty  as  well  as  the  Supreme  Good. 


I 


458  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

we  are  entitled  to  presume  that  the  results  attained  by  this 
effort  of  speculative  thought  must  harmonize  with  the  positive 
utterances  of  the  Divine  Logos — the  Eternal  Reason,  whose 
revelations  are  embalmed  and  transmitted  to  us  in  the  Word 
of  God.  If  the  great  truth  that  man  is  "  the  offspring  of  God" 
and  as  such  "  the  image  and  glory  of  God"  which  is  asserted, 
alike,  by  Paul  and  the  poet-philosophers  of  Tarsus  and  Mysia, 
be  admitted,  then  we  may  expect  that  the  reason  of  man  shall 
have  some  correlation  with  the  Divine  reason.  The  mind  of 
man  is  the  chef-d'oeuvre  of  Divine  art.  It  is  fashioned  after  the 
model  which  the  Divine  nature  supplies.  "  Let  us  make  man 
in  our  image  after  our  likeness."  That  image  consists  in 
i-Kiyviiiaiq — knowledge  ;  diKaio(Tvrrj — -justice  ;  and  bffiorrjQ — benevo- 
lence. It  is  not  merely  the  capacity  to  know,  to  be  just,  and  to 
be  beneficent ;  it  is  actual  knowledge,  justice,  and  benevolence. 
It  supposes,  first,  that  the  fundamental  ideas  of  the  true,  the 
just,  and  the  good,  are  connate  to  the  human  mind ;  second, 
that  the  native  determination  of  the  mind  is  towards  the  real- 
ization of  these  ideas  in  every  mental  state  and  every  form  of 
human  activity ;  third,  that  there  is  a  constitutional  sympathy 
of  reason  with  the  ideas  of  truth,  and  righteousness,  and  good- 
ness, as  they  dwell  in  the  reason  of  God.  And  though  man  be 
now  fallen,  there  is  still  within  his  heart  some  vestige  of  his 
primal  nature.  There  is  still  a  sense  of  the  divine,  a  religious 
aptitude,  "  a  feeling  after  God,"  and  some  longing  to  return  to 
Him.  There  are  still  ideas  in  the  reason,  which,  in  their  natu- 
ral and  logical  development  compel  him  to  recognize  a  God. 
There  is  within  his  conscience  a  sense  of  duty,  of  obligation, 
and  accountability  to  a  Superior  Power — "a  law  of  the  mind,", 
thought  opposed  and  antagonized  by  depraved  passions  and 
appetites — "the  law  in  the  members."  There  is  yet  a  natural, 
constitutional  sympathy  of  reason  with  the  law  of  God — "it 
delights  in  that  law,"  and  consents  "  that  it  is  good,"  but  it  is 
overborne  and  obstructed  by  passion.  Man,  even  as  unregen- 
erate,  "wills  to  do  that  which  is  good,"  but  "how  to  perform 
that  which  is  good  he  finds  not,"  and  in  the  agony  of  his  soul 


^       or  TUft    ^^) 

GREEK  THIL  OS OFHT.  II  U  K I  V  J|l9g  T  f 
he  exclaims,  "Oh,  wretched  man  that  I  amj^wS^^^liS^yerflff  K,. 

The  Author  of  nature  is  also  the  Author  of  revelation.  The 
Eternal  Father  of  the  Eternal  Son,  who  is  the  grand  medium 
of  all  God's  direct  communications  to  our  race — the  revealer 
of  God,  is  also  "  the  Father  of  the  spirits  of  all  flesh."  That 
divine  inbreathing  which  first  constituted  man  "  a  living  soul " 
— that  "  inspiration  of  the  Almighty  which  giveth  man  under- 
standing," and  still  "  teacheth  him  knowledge,"  proceeds  from 
the  same  Spirit  as  that  which  inspires  the  prophets  and  seers 
of  the  Old  Testament  Church,  and  the  Apostles  and  teachers 
of  the  new.  That  "  true  light  which  lighteth  every  man  that 
Cometh  into  the  world"  shone  on  the  mind  of  Anaxagoras,  and 
Socrates,  and  Plato,  as  well  as  on  the  mind  of  Abraham  and 
Rahab,  Cornelius  and  the  Syro-Phoenician  woman,  and,  in  a 
higher  form,  and  with  a  clearer  and  richer  effulgence,  on  the 
mind  of  Moses,  Isaiah,  Paul  and  John.  It  is  not  to  be  won- 
dered at,  then,  if,  in  the  teaching  of  Socrates  and  Plato,  we 
should  find  a  striking  harmony  of  sentiment,  and  even  form  of 
expression,  with  some  parts  of  the  Christian  revelation.  No 
short-sighted  jealousy  ought  to  impugn  the  honesty  of  our  judg- 
ment, if,  in  the  speculations  of  Plato,  we  catch  glimpses  of  a 
world  of  ideas  not  unlike  that  which  Christianity  discloses,  and 
hear  words  not  unfamiliar  to  those  who  spake  as  they  were 
moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost. 

If,  then,  there  exists  some  correlation  between  Divine  and 
human  reason,  and  if  the  light  which  illuminates  all  minds  in 
Christian  and  in  heathen  lancjs  is  the  same  "  true  light,"  though 
differing  in  degrees  of  brightness,  it  is  most  natural  and  rea- 
sonable to  expect  some  connection  and  some  correspondence 
between  the  discoveries  of  philosophy  and  the  revelations  of 
the  Sacred  Oracles. 

Although  Christianity  is  confessedly  something  which  is 
above  reason  and  nature  —  something  communicated  from 
above,  and  therefore  in  the  fullest  sense  supernatural  and 
*  Romans,  ch.  vii. 


460  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

superhuman,  yet  it  must  stand  in  relation  to  reason  and  nature, 
and  to  their  historic  development ;  otherwise  it  could  not  ope- 
rate on  man  at  all.  "We  have  no  knowledge  of  a  dynamic 
influence,  spiritual  or  natural,  without  a  dynamic  reaction." 
Matter  can  only  be  moved  by  forces,  and  according  to  laws, 
as  it  has  properties  which  correlate  it  with  these  forces  and 
laws.  And  mind  can  not  be  determined  from  without  to  any 
specific  form  of  cognition,  unless  it  have  powers  of  apprehen- 
sion and  conception  which  are  governed  by  uniform  laws.  If 
man  is  to  be  instructed  by  a  verbal  revelation,  he  must,  at  least, 
be  capacitated  for  the  reception  of  divine  communication- 
must  have  a  power  of  forming  super-sensuous  conceptions,  and 
there  must  be  some  original  community  of  thought  and  idea 
between  the  mind  that  teaches  and  the  mind  that  is  taught. 
A  revelation  from  an  invisible  God — a  being  "  whom  no  man 
has  ever  seen  or  ever  can  see  "  with  the  eye  of  sense — would 
have  no  affinity  for,  and  no  power  to  affect  and  enlighten,  a 
being  who  had  no  presentiment  of  an  invisible  Power  to  which 
he  is  in  some  way  related.  A  revealed  law  promulgated  from 
an  unseen  and  utterly  unknown  Power*  would  have  no  con- 
straining authority,  if  man  had  no  idea  of  right,  no  sense  of 
duty,  no  feeling  of  obligation  to  a  Supreme  Being.  If,  there- 
Yore,  religious  instruction  be  not  already  preceded  by  an  innate 
consciousness  of  God,  and  of  obligation  to  God,  as  an  opera- 
tive predisposition,  there  would  be  nothing  for  revelation  to  aCt 
upon.  Some  relation  between  the  reason  which  planned  the 
universe,  and  which  has  expressed  its  thoughts  in  the  numerical 
relations  and  archetypal  forms  which  are  displayed  therein, 
and  the  reason  of  man,  with  its  ideas  of  form  and  number,  pro- 
portion and  harmony,  is  necessarily  supposed  in  the  statement 
of  Paul  that  "  the  invisible  things  of  God  from  the  creation  are 
seen."  Nature  to  us  could  be  no  symbol  of  the  Divine 
Thought,  if  there  were  no  correlation  between  the  reason  of 
man  and  the  reason  of  God.  All  revelation,  indeed,  supposes 
some  community  of  nature,  some  affinities  of  thought,  some 
correlation  of  ideas,  between  the  mind  communicating  spiritual 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  461 

knowledge,  and  the  mind  to  which  the  communication  is  made. 
In  approaching  man,  it  must  traverse  ground  already  occupied 
by  man;  it  must  employ  phrases  already  employed,  and  as- 
sume forms  of  thought  already  familiar  to  man.  It  must  ad- 
dress itself  to  some  ideas,  sentiments,  and  feelings  already 
possessed  by  man.  If  religion  is  the  great  end  and  destina- 
tion of  man,  then  the  nature  of  man  must  be  constituted  for 
religion.  Now  religion,  in  its  inmost  nature,  is  a  communion, 
a  fellowship  with  God.  But  no  creature  can  be  brought  into 
this  communion  "  save  one  that  is  constitutionally  related  to 
God  in  terms  that  admit  of  correspondence."  There  must  be  , 
intelligence  offered  to  his  intelligence,  sentiment  to  his  senti-' 
ment,  reason  to  his  reason,  thought  to  his  thought.  There  must 
be  implanted  in  the  human  mind  some  fundamental  ideas  and 
determinations  grounded  upon  this  fact,  that  the  real  end  and 
destination  of  man  is  for  religion,  so  that  when  that  higher 
sphere  of  life  and  action  is  presented  to  man,  by  an  outward 
verbal  revelation,  there  shall  be  a  recognized  harmony  between 
the  inner  idea  and  determination,  and  the  outer  revelation. 
We  can  not  doubt  that  such  a  relation  between  human  nature 
and  reason,  and  Christianity,  exists.  We  see  evidences  of  this 
in  the  perpetual  strivings  of  humanity  to  attain  to  some  fuller 
arid  clearer  apprehension  of  that  Supreme  Power  which  is  con- 
sciously near  to  human  thought,  and  in  the  historic  develop- 
ment of  humanity  towards  those  higher  forms  of  thought  and 
existence  which  demand  a  revelation  in  order  to  their  comple- 
tion. This  original  capacity,  and  this  historical  development, 
have  unquestionably  prepared  the  way  for  the  reception  of 
Christianity. 

Christianity,  then,  must  have  some  connection  with  the  rea- 
son of  man,  and  it  must  also  have  some  relation  to  the  pro- 
gressive developments  of  human  thought  in  the  ages  which 
preceded  the  advent  of  Christ.  Christianity  did  not  break 
suddenly  upon  the  world  as  a  new  commencement  altogether 
unconnected  with  the  past,  and  wanting  in  all  points  of  sym- 
pathy and  contact  with  the  then  present.     It  proceeded  along 


462      ^  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

lines  of  thought  which  had  been  laid  through  ages  of  prepara- 
l  tion  ;  it  clothed  itself  in  forms  of  speech  which  had  been 
\  moulded  by  centuries  of  education,  and  it  appropriated  to  it- 
Velf  a  moral  and  intellectual  culture  which  had  been  effected 
by  long  periods  of  severest  discipline.  It  was,  in  fact,  the 
consummation  of  the  whole  moral  and  religious  history  of  the 
world. 

A  revelation  of  new  truths,  presented  in  entirely  new  forms 
of  thought  and  speech,  would  have  defeated  its  own  ends,  and, 
practically,  would  have  been  no  revelation  at  all.  The  divine 
light,  in  passing  through  such  a  medium,  would  have  been 
darkened  and  obscured.  The  lens  through  which  the  heavenly 
rays  are  to  be  transmitted  must  first  be  prepared  and  polished. 
The  intellectual  eye  itself  must  be  gradually  accustomed  to 
the  light.  Hence  it  is  that  all  revelation  has  h^tn  progressive^ 
commencing,  in  the  infancy  of  our  race,  with  images  and  sym- 
bols addressed  to  sense,  and  advancing,  with  the  education  of 
the  race,  to  abstract  conceptions  and  spiritual  ideas.  The  first 
communications  to  the  patriarchs  were  always  accompanied  by 
some  external,  sensible  appearance ;  they  were  often  made 
through  some  preternatural  personage  in  human  form.  Subse- 
quently, as  human  thought  becomes  assimilated  to  the  Divine 
idea,  God  uses  man  as  his  .organ,  and  communicates  divine 
knowledge  as  an  internal  and  spiritual  gift.  The  theistic  con- 
ception of  the  earliest  times  was  therefore  more  or  less  anthro- 
pomorphic, in  the  prophetic  age  it  was  unquestionably  more 
spiritual.  The  education  of  Hebraic,  Mosaic,  and  prophetic 
ages  had  gradually  developed  a  purer  theism,  and  prepared 
the  Jewish  mind  for  that  sublime  announcement  of  our  Lord's 
— "God  is  a  spirit,  and  they  that  worship  him  must  worship 
in  spirit."  For  ages  the  Jews  had  worshipped  in  Samaria 
and  Jerusalem,  and  the  inevitable  tendency  of  thought  was  to 
localize  the  divine  presence ;  but  the  gradual  withdrawmeht 
from  these  localities  of  all  visible  tokens  of  Jehovah's  pres- 
ence, prepared  the  way  for  the  Saviour's  explicit  declaration 
that "  neither  in  this  mountain  of  Samaria,  nor  yet  at  Jerusalem, 


GREEK  PUILOSOPHT.  463 

shall  men  worship  the  Father,"  to  the  exclusion  of  any  other 
spot  on  earth;  the  real  temple  of  the  living  God  is  now  the 
heart  of  man.  The  Holiness  of  God  was  an  idea  too  lofty  for 
human  thought  to  grasp  at  once.  The  light  of  God's  ineffable 
purity  was  too  bright  and  dazzling  to  burst  at  once  on  human 
eyes.  Therefore  it  was  gradually  displayed.  The  election  of 
a  chosen  seed  in  Abraham's  ^ace  to  a  nearer  approach  to  God 
than  the  rest  of  pagan  humanity ;  the  announcement  of  the 
Decalogue  at  Sinai  amidst  awe-inspiring  wonders ;  the  separa- 
tion of  a  single  tribe  to  the  priestly  office,  who  were  dedicated 
to,  and  purified  in  an  especial  manner  for  the  service  of  the 
tabernacle ;  the  sanctification  of  the  High-priest  by  sacrifice 
and  lustration  before  he  dared  to  enter  "  the  holiest  place  " — 
the  presence-chamber  of  Jehovah ;  and  then  the  direct  and  ex- 
plicit teaching  of  the  prophets — were  all  advancing  steps  by 
which  the  Jewish  mind  was  lifted  up  to  the  clearer  apprehen- 
sion of  the  holiness  of  God,  the  impurity  of  man,  the  distance 
of  man  from  God,  and  the  need  of  Mediation. 

The  ideas  oi  Redemption  and  Salvation — of  atonement,  ex- 
piation, pardon,  adoption,  and  regeneration — are  unique  and 
sui-generis.  Before  these  conceptions  could  be  presented  in 
the  fullness  and  maturity  of  the  Christian  system,  there  was 
needed  the  culture  and  education  of  the  ages  of  Mosaic  ritual- 
ism, with  its  sacrificial  system,  its  rights  of  purification,  its 
priestly  absolution,  and  its  family  of  God.  ^  Redemption  itself, 
as  an  economy,  is  a  development,  and  has  consequently,  a  his- 
tory— a  history  which  had  its  commencement  in  the  first  Eden, 
and  which  shall  have  its  consummation  in  the  second  Eden  of 
a  regenerated  world.  It  was  germinally  infolded  in  the  first 
promise,  gradually  unfolded  in  successive  types  and  prophecies, 
more  fully  developed  in  the  life,  and  sayings,  and  sufferings  of 
the  Son  of  God,  and  its  ripened  fruit  is  presented  to  the  eye  of 
faith  in  tHe  closing  scenic  representations  of  the  grand  Apoca- 
lypse of  John.  "  Judaism  was  not  given  as  a  perfect  religion. 
Whatever  may  have  been  its  superiority  over  surrounding  forms 
^  Romans,  ix.  4-6. 


464  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

of  worship,  it  was,  notwithstanding,  a  provisional  form  only. 
The  consciousness  that  it  was  a  preparatory,  and  not  a  definite 
dispensation,  is  evident  throughout.  It  points  to  an  end  be- 
yond itself,  suggests  a  grander  thought  than  any  in  itself;  its 
glory  precisely  consists  in  its  constant  looking  forward  to  a  glo- 
rious future  destined  to  surpass  it."^ 

Thus  the  determinations  which,  through  Redemption,  fall  to 
the  lot  of  history,  as  Nitzsch  justly  remarks,  obey  the  emanci- 
pating law  of  gradual  progress."^  Christianity  was  preceded  by 
ages  of  preparation,  in  which  we  have  a  gradual  development 
of  religious  phrases  and  ideas,  of  forms  of  social  life  and  intel- 
lectual culture,  and  of  national  and  political  institutions  most 
favorable  to  its  advent  and  its  promulgation ;  and  "  in  the  full- 
ness of  time  " — the  maturity  and  fitness  of  the  age — "  God  sent 
his  own  Son  into  the  world." 

This  work  of  preparation  was  not  confined  alone  to  Judaism. 
The  divine  plan  of  redemption  comprehended  all  the  race ;  its 
provisions  are  made  in  view  of  the  wants  of  all  the  race  ;  and 
we  must  therefore  believe  that  the  entire  history  of  the  race, 
previous  to  the  coming  of  the  Redeemer,  was  under  a  divine 
supervision,  and  directed  towards  the  grand  centre  of  our 
world's  history.  Greek  philosophy  and  Grecian  civilization 
must  therefore  have  a  place  in  the  divine  plan  of  history,  and 
they  must  stand  in  an  important  relation  to  Christianity.  He 
who  "  determined  the  time  of  each  nation's  existence,  and  fixed 
the  geographical  boundaries  of  their  habitation  in  order  that 
they  may  seek  the  Lord,"  can  not  have  been  unmindful  of  the 
Greek  nation,  and  of  its  grandest  age  of  philosophy.  "The 
Father  of  the  spirits  of  all  flesh  "  could  not  be  unconcerned  in 
the  moral  and  spiritual  welfare  of  any  of  his  children.  He  was 
as  deeply  interested  in  the  Athenian  as  in  the  Hebrew.  He  is 
the  God  of  the  Gentile  as  well  as  the  Jew.  His  tender  mercies 
are  over  all  his  works.  If  the  Hebrew  race  was  selected  to  be 
the  agent  of  his  providence  in  one  special  field,  and  if  the  Jew- 

^  Pressense,  "  Religions  before  Christ,"  p.  202. 
"  "  System  of  Doctrine,"  p.  73. 


QBEEK  PHILOSOPHY.  465 

ish  theocracy  was  one  grand  instrument  of  preparatory  disci- 
pline, it  was  simply  because,  through  these,  God  designed  to 
bless  all  the  nations  of  the  earth.  And  surely  no  one  will  pre- 
sume to  say  that  a  civilization  and  an  intellectual  culture  which 
was  second  only  to  the  Hebrew,  and,  in  some  of  its  aspects^ 
even  in  advance  of  the  Hebrew,  was  not  determined  and  su- 
pervised by  Divine  Providence,  and  made  subservient  to  the 
education  and  development  of  the  whole  race.  The  grand  re- 
sults of  Hebrew  civilization  were  appropriated  and  assimilated 
by  Christianity,  and  remain  to  this  day.  And  no  one  can  deny 
that  the  same  is  true  of  Greek  civilization.  Through  a  kind 
of  historic  preparation  the  heathen  world  was  made  ready  for 
Christ,  as  a  soil  is  prepared  to  receive  the  seed,  and  some  pre- 
cious fruits  of  knowledge,  of  truth,  and  of  righteousness,  even, 
were  largely  matured,  which  have  been  reaped,  and  appropri- 
ated, and  vitalized  by  the  heaven-descended  life  of  Christianity. 
The  chief  points  of  excellence  in  the  civilization  of  the 
Greeks  are  strikingly  obvious,  and  may  be  readily  presented. 
High  perfection  of  the  intellect  and  the  imagination  displaying 
itself  in  the  various  forms  of  art,  poetry,  literature,  and  philoso- 
phy. A  wonderful  freedom  and  activity  of  body  and  of  mind, 
developed  in  trade,  and  colonization,  in  military  achievement, 
and  in  subtile  dialectics.  A  striking  love  of  the  beautiful,  re- 
vealing itself  in  their  sculpture  and  architecture,  in  the  free 
music  of  prosaic  numbers,  and  the  graceful  movement  and 
measure  of  their  poetry.  A  quickness  of  perception,  a  dignity 
of  demeanor,  a  refinement  of  taste,  a  delicacy  of  moral  sense, 
and  a  high  degree  of  reverence  for  the  divine  in  nature  and  hu- 
manity. And,  in  general,  a  ripe  and  all-pervading  culture, 
which  has  made  Athens  a  synonym  for  all  tliat  is  greatest  and 
best  in  the  genius  of  man  ;  so  that  literature,  in  its  most  flour- 
ishing periods  has  rekindled  its  torch  at  her  altars,  and  art  has 
looked  back  to  the  age  of  Pericles  for  her  purest  models.^     All 

^  In  Lord  Brougham's  celebrated  letter  to  the  father  of  the  historian 
Macaulay  in  regard  to  the  education  of  the  latter,  we  read  :  "  If  he  would  be 
a  great  orator,  he  must  go  at  once  to  the  fountain-head,  and  be  familiar  with 

30 


466  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

these  enter  into  the  very  idea  of  Greek  civilization.  We  can 
not  resist  the  conviction  that,  by  a  Divine  Providence,  it  was 
made  subservient  to  the  purpose  of  Redemption ;  it  prepared 
the  way  for,  and  contributed  to,  the  spread  of  the  Gospel. 

Its  subserviency  to  this  grand  purpose  is  seen  in  the  Greek 
tendency  to  trade  and  colonization.  Their  mental  activity  was 
accompanied  by  great  physical  freedom  of  movement.  They 
displayed  an  inherent  disposition  to  extensive  emigration. 
"  Without  aiming  at  universal  conquest,  they  developed  (if  we 
may  use  the  word)  a  remarkable  catholicity  of  character,  and  a 
singular  power  of  adaptation  to  those  whom  they  called  Barba- 
rians. In  this  respect  they  were  strongly  contrasted  with  the 
Egyptians,  whose  immemorial  civilization  was  confined  to  the 
long  valley  which  extended  from  the  cataracts  to  the  mouth  of 
the  Nile.  The  Hellenic  tribes,  on  the  other  hand,  though  they 
despised  the  foreigners,  were  never  unwilling  to  visit  them 
and  to  cultivate  their  acquaintance.  At  the  earliest  period  at 
which  history  enables  us  to  discover  them,  we  see  them  mov- 
ing about  in  their  ships  on  the  shores  and  among  the  islands 
of  their  native  seas ;  and,  three  or  four  centuries  before  the 
Christian  era,  Asia  Minor,  beyond  which  the  Persians  had  not 
been  permitted  to  advance,  was  bordered  by  a  fringe  of  Greek 
colonies  ;  and  lower  Italy,  when  the  Roman  Republic  was  just 
becoming  conscious  of  its  strength,  had  received  the  name  of 
Greece  itself.  To  all  these  places  they  carried  their  arts  and 
literature,  their  philosophy,  their  mythology,  and  their  amuse- 
ments. . . .  They  were  gradually  taking  the  place  of  the  Phoe- 
nicians in  the  empire  of  the  Mediterranean.  They  were,  in- 
deed, less  exclusively  mercantile  than  those  old  discoverers. 

every  one  of  the  great  orations  of  Demosthenes. ...  I  know  from  expe- 
rience that  nothing  is  half  so  successful  in  these  times  (bad  though  they  he) 
as  what  has  been  formed  on  the  Greek  models.  I  use  poor  illustrations  in 
giving  my  own  experience,  but  I  do  assure  you  that  both  in  courts  and  Par- 
liament, and  even  to  mobs,  I  have  never  made  so  much  play  (to  use  a  very 
modern  phrase)  as  when  I  was  almost  translating  from  the  Greek.  I  com- 
posed the  peroration  of  my  speech  for  the  Queen,  in  the  Lords,  after  read- 
ing and  repeating  Demosthenes  for  three  or  four  weeks." 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  467 

Their  voyages  were  not  so  long.  But  their  influence  on  gen- 
eral civilization  was  greater  and  more  permanent.  The  ear- 
liest ideas  of  scientific  navigation  and  geography  are  due  to 
the  Greeks.  The  later  Greek  travellers,  Pausanias  and  Strabo, 
are  our  best  sources  of  information  on  the  topography  of  St. 
Paul's  journeys. 

"  With  this  view  of  the  Hellenic  character  before  us,  we  are 
prepared  to  appreciate  the  vast  results  of  Alexander's  con- 
quests. He  took  the  meshes  of  the  net  of  Greek  civilization 
which  were  lying  in  disorder  on  the  edge  of  the  Asiatic  shore, 
and  spread  them  over  all  the  countries  he  traversed  in  his 
wonderful  campaigns.  The  East  and  the  West  were  suddenly 
brought  together.  Separate  tribes  were  united  under  a  com- 
mon government.  New  cities  were  built  as  the  centres  of 
political  life.  New  lines  of  communication  were  opened  as 
the  channels  of  commercial  activity.  The  new  culture  pene- 
trated the  mountain  ranges  of  Pisidia  and  Lycaonia.  The 
Tigris  and  Euphrates  became  Greek  rivers.  The  language  of 
Athens  was  heard  among  the  Jewish  colonies  of  Babylonia, 
and  a  Grecian  Babylon  was  built  by  the  conqueror  in  Egypt, 
and  called  by  his  name. 

"  The  empire  of  Alexander  was  divided,  but  the  effects  of 
his  campaigns  and  policy  did  not  cease.  The  influence  of 
these  fresh  elements  of  social  life  was  rather  increased  by  being 
brought  into  independent  action  within  the  sphere  of  distinct 
kingdoms.  Our  attention  is  particularly  directed  to  two  of  the 
monarchical  lines  which  descended  from  Alexander's  generals 
— the  Ptolemies,  or  the  Greek  kings  of  Egypt,  and  the  Seleu- 
cidae,  or  the  Greek  kings  of  Syria.  Their  respective  capitals, 
Alexandria  and  Antioch,  became  the  metropolitan  centres  of 
commercial  and  civilized  life  in  the  East."^  Antioch  was  for 
ages  the  home  of  science  and  philosophy.  Here  the  religious 
opinions  of  the  East  and  the  West  were  blended  and  mutually 
modified.  Here  it  was  discovered  by  the  heathen  mind  that 
a  new  religion  had  appeared,  and  a  new  revelation  had  been 

*  Conybeare  and  Howson,  "Life  and  Epistles  of  St.  Paul,"  vol.  i.  pp.  8-10. 


468  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

given/  In  Alexandria  all  nations  were  invited  to  exchange 
their  commodities  and,  with  equal  freedom,  their  opinions. 
The  representatives  of  all  religions  met  here.  "Beside  the 
Temple  of  Jupiter  there  rose  the  white  marble  Temple  of  Sera- 
pis,  and  close  at  hand  stood  the  synagogue  of  the  Jews."  The 
Alexandrian  library  contained  all  the  treasures  of  ancient  cul- 
ture, and  even  a  copy  of  the  Hebrew  Scriptures. 

The  spread  of  the  Greek  language  was  one  of  the  most  im- 
portant services  which  the  cities  of  Antioch  and  Alexandria 
rendered  to  Christianity.  The  Greek  tongue  is  intimately  con- 
nected with  the  whole  system  of  Christian  doctrine. 

This  language,  which,  in  symmetry  of  structure,  in  flexibility 
and  compass  of  expression,  in  exactness  and  precision,  in  grace 
and  elegance,  exceeds  every  other  language,  became  the  lan- 
guage of  theology.  Next  in  importance  to  the  inspiration 
which  communicates  the  super-human  thought,  must  be  the 
gradual  development  of  the  language  in  which  the  thought  can 
clothe  itself.  That  development  by  which  the  Greek  language 
became  the  adequate  vehicle  of  Divine  thought,  the  perfect 
medium  of  the  mature  revelation  of  truth  contained  in  the 
Christian  Scriptures,  must  be  regarded  as  the  subject  of  a 
Divine  providence.  Christianity  waited  for  that  development, 
and  it  awaited  Christianity.  "The  Greek  tongue  became  to 
the  Christian  more  than  it  had  been  to  the  Roman  or  the  Jew. 
The  mother-tongue  of  Ignatius  at  Antioch  ^as  that  in  which 
Philo  composed  his  treatises  at  Alexandria,  and  which  Cicero 
spoke  at  Athens.  It  is  difficult  to  state  in  a  few  words  the  im- 
portant relation  which  Alexandria,  more  especially,  was  des- 
tined to  bear  to  the  whole  Christian  Church."  In  that  city, 
the  Old  Testament  was  translated  into  Greek ;  there  the  writ- 
ings of  Plato  were  diligently  studied ;  there  Philo,  the  Plato- 
nizing  Jew,  had  sought  to  blend  into  one  system  the  teachings 
of  the  Old  Testament  theology  and  the  dialectic  speculations 
of  Plato.  Numenius  learns  of  Philo,  and  Plotinus  of  Nume- 
nius,  and  the  ecstasy  of  Plotinus  is  the  development  of  Philo's 
^  Acts,  xi.  26. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  469 

intuitions.  A  theological  language  by  this  means  was  developed, 
rich  in  the  phrases  of  various  schools,  and  suited  to  convey  the 
spiritual  revelation  of  Christian  ideas  to  all  the  world.  "  It 
was  not  an  accident  that  the  New  Testament  was  written  in 
Greek,  the  language  which  can  best  express  the  highest  thoughts 
and  worthiest  feelings  of  the  intellect  and  heart,  and  which  is 
adapted  to  be  the  instrument  of  education  for  all  nations ;  nor 
was  it  an  accident  that  the  composition  of  these  books  and  the 
promulgation  of  the  Gospels  were  delayed  till  the  instruction 
of  our  Lord,  and  the  writings  of  his  Apostles  could  be  ex- 
pressed in  the  dialect  [of  Athens  and]  of  Alexandria."^  This 
must  be  ascribed  to  the  foreordination  of  Him  who,  in  the  his- 
tory of  nations  and  of  civilizations,  "  worketh  all  things  accord- 
ing to  the  counsel  of  his  own  will." 

Now  it  is  the  doctrine  of  the  best  philologists  that  language 
is  a  growth.  Gradually,  and  by  combined  efforts  of  successive 
generations,  it  has  been  brought  to  the  perfection  which  we  so 
much  admire  in  the  idioms  of  the  Bible,  the  poetry  of  Homer, 
Dante,  and  Shakspeare,  and  the  prose  compositions  of  Demos- 
thenes, Cicero,  Johnson,  and  Macaulay.  The  material  or  root- 
element  of  language  may  have  been  the  product  of  mental  in- 
stinct, or  perhaps  the  immediate  gift  of  God  by  revelation; 
but  the  formal  elernent  must  have  been  the  creation  of  thought, 
and  the  result  of  rational  combination.  Language  is  really 
the  incarnation  of  thought ;  consequently  the  growth  of  a  lan- 
guage, its  affluence,  comprehension,  and  fullness  must  de- 
pend on  the  vigor  and  activity  of  thought,  and  the  acquisition 
of  general  ideas.  Language  is  thus  the  best  index  of  intellec- 
tual progress,  the  best  standard  of  the  intellectual  attainment 
of  an  age  or  nation.  The  language  of  barbaric  tribes  is  ex- 
ceedingly simple  and  meagre ;  the  paucity  of  general  terms 
clearly  indicating  the  absence  of  all  attempts  at  classification 
^d  all  speculative  thought.  Whilst  the  language  of  educated 
peoples  is  characterized  by  great  fullness  and  affluence  of 
terms,  especially  such  as  are  expressive  of  general  notions  and 

*  Conybeare  and  Howson,  "  Life  and  Epistles  of  St.  Paul,"  vol.  i.  p.  10. 


470  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

abstract  ideas.  All  grammar,  all  philology,  all  scientific  no- 
menclature are  thus,  in  idiCt, psychological  deposits,  which  register 
the  progressive  advancement  of  human  thought  and  knowledge 
in  the  world  of  mind,  as  the  geological  strata  bear  testimony  to 
the  progressive  development  of  the  material  world.  "Lan- 
guage," says  Trench,  "  is  fossil  poetry,  fossil  history,"  and,  we 
will  add,  fossil  philosophy.  Many  a  single  word  is  a  concen- 
trated poem.  The  record  of  great  social  and  national  revolu- 
tions is  embalmed  in  a  single  term.^  And  the  history  of  an 
age  of  philosophic  thought  is  sometimes  condensed  and  depos- 
ited in  one  imperishable  word.** 

If,  then,  language  is  the  creation  of  thought,  the  sensible 
vesture  with  which  it  clothes  itself,  and  becomes,  as  it  were,  in- 
carnate— if  the  perfection  and  efficiency  of  language  depends 
on  the  maturity  and  clearness  of  thought,  we  conclude  that  the 
wonderful  adequacy  and  fitness  of  the  Greek  language  to  be 
the  vehicle  of  the  Divine  thought,  the  medium  of  the  most  per- 
fect revelation  of  God  to  men,  can  only  be  explained  on  the 
assumption  that  the  ages  of  philosophic  thought  which,  in 
Greece,  preceded  the  advent  of  Christianity,  were  under  the 
immediate  supervision  of  a  providence,  and,  in  some  degree, 
illuminated  by  the  Spirit  of  God. 

Greek  philosophy  must  therefore  have  fulfilled  a  propaedeu- 
tic office  for  Christianity.  "As  it  had  been  intrusted  to  the 
Hebrews  to  preserve  and  transmit  the  heaven-derived  element 
of  the  Monotheistic  religion,  so  it  was  ordained  that,  among  the 
Greeks,  all  seeds  of  human  culture  should  unfold  themselves 
in  beautiful  harmony,  and  then  Christianity,  taking  up  the  op- 
position between  the  divine  and  human,  was  to  unite  both  in 
one,  and  show  how  it  was  necessary  that  both  should  co-oper- 
ate to  prepare  for  the  appearance  of  itself  and  the  unfolding  of 
what  it  contains."'     During  the  period  of  Greek  philosophy 

'  See  Trench  "On  the  Study  of  Words,"  p.  20,  where  the  word  "frank" 
is  given  as  an  illustration. 

"  For  example,  the  Kdafioc  of  the  Pythagoreans,  the  eldri  of  the  Platonists, 
and  the  aragafia  of  the  Stoics. 

^  Neander's  "  Church  History,"  vol.  i.  p.  4. 


GB^EK  PHILOSOPHY.  47 1 

which  preceded  the  coming  of  Christ,  human  reason,  unfolding 
itself  from  beneath,  had  aspired  after  that  knowledge  of  divine 
things  which  is  from  above.  It  had  felt  within  itself  the 
deep-seated  consciousness  of  God — the  sporadic  revelation  of 
Him  "who  is  not  far  from  any  one  of  us" — the  immanent 
thought  of  that  Being  "  in  whom  we  live  and  move  and  are," 
and  it  had  striven  by  analysis  and  definition  to  attain  a  more 
distinct  and  logical  apprehension.  The  heart  of  man  had  been 
stirred  with  "  the  feeling  after  God  " — the  longing  for  a  clearer 
sense  of  the  divine,  and  had  struggled  to  attain,  by  abstraction 
or  by  ecstasy,  a  more  immediate  communion  with  God.  Man 
had  been  conscious  of  an  imperative  obligation  to  conform  to 
the  will  of  the  great  Supreme,  and  he  sought  to  interpret  more 
clearly  the  utterances  of  conscience  as  to  what  duty  was.  He 
had  felt  the  sense  of  sin  and  guilt,  and  had  endeavored  to  ap- 
pease his  conscience  by  expiatory  offerings,  and  to  deliver  him- 
self from  the  power  of  sin  by  intellectual  culture  and  moral 
discipline.  And  surely  no  one,  at  all  familiar  with  the  history 
of  that  interesting  epoch  in  the  development  of  humanity,  will 
have  the  hardihood  to  assert  that  no  steps  were,  taken  in  the 
right  direction,  and  no  progress  made  towards  the  distant  goal 
of  human  desire  and  hope.  The  language,  the  philosophy,  the 
ideals  of  moral  beauty  and  excellence,  the  noble  lives  and  no- 
bler utterances  of  the  men  who  stand  forth  in  history  as  the 
representatives  of  Greek  civilization,  all  attest  that  their  noble 
aspiration  and  effort  did  not  end  in  ignominious  failure  and 
utter  defeat.  It  is  true  they  fell  greatly  beneath  the  realization 
of  even  their  own  moral  ideals,  and  they  became  painfully  con- 
scious of  their  moral  weakness,  as  men  do  even  in  Christian 
times.  They  learned  that,  neither  by  intellectual  abstraction, 
nor  by  ecstasy  of  feeling,  could  they  lift  themselves  to  a  living, 
conscious  fellowship  with  God.  The  sense  of  guilt  was  unre- 
lieved by  expiations,  penances,  and  prayers.  And  whilst  some 
cultivated  a  proud  indifference,  a  Stoical  apathy,  and  others 
sank  down  to  Epicurean  ease  and  pleasure,  there  was  a  nobffe 
few  who  longed  and  hoped  with  increasing  ardor  for  a  living 


472  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

Redeemer,  a  personal  Mediator,  who  should  "  stand  between 
God  and  man  and  lay  his  hand  on  both."  Christ  became  in 
some  dim  consciousness  "the  Desire  of  Nations,"  and  the 
Moral  Law  became  even  to  the  Greek  as  well  as  the  Jew  "  a 
school-master  to  lead  them  to  Him." 

The  arrival  of  Paul  at  Athens,  in  the  close  of  this  brilliant 
period  of  Greek  philosophy,  now  assumes  an  aspect  of  deeper 
interest  and  profounder  significance.  It  was  a  grand  climac- 
teric in  the  life  of  humanity — an  epoch  in  the  moral  and  re- 
ligious history  of  the  world.  It  marked  the  consummation  of 
a  periodic  dispensation,  and  it  opened  a  new  era  in  that  won- 
derful progression  through  which  an  overruling  Providence  is 
carrying  the  human  race.  As  the  coming  of  the  Son  of  God 
to  Judea  in  the  ripeness  of  events — "  the  fullness  of  time  " — 
was  the  consummation  of  the  Jewish  dispensation,  and  the 
event  for  which  the  Jewish  age  had  been  a  preparatory  disci- 
pline, so  the  coming  of  a  Christian  teacher  to  Athens,  in  the 
person  of  "  the  Apostle  of  the  Gentiles,"  was  the  terminus  ad 
quern  towards  which  all  the  phases  in  the  past  history  of  philo- 
sophic thought  had  looked,  and  for  which  they  had  prepared. 
Christianity  was  brought  to  Athens — brought  into  contact  with 
Grecian  philosophy  at  the  moment  of  its  exhaustion  —  at  the 
moment  when,  after  ages  of  unwearied  effort,  it  had  become 
conscious  of  its  weakness,  and  its  comparative  failure,  and  had 
abandoned  many  questions  in  despair.  Greek  philosophy  had 
therefore  its  place  in  the  plan  of  Divine  Providence.  It  had 
a  mission  to  the  world ;  that  mission  was  now  fulfilled.  If  it 
had  laid  any  foundation  in  the  Athenian  mind  on  which  the 
Christian  system  could  plant  its  higher  truths — if  it  had  raised 
up  into  the  clearer  light  of  consciousness  any  of  those  ideas 
imbedded  in  the  human  reason  which  are  germane  to  Christian 
truth — if  it  had  revealed  more  fully  the  wants  and  instincts  of 
the  human  heart,  or  if  it  had  attained  the  least  knowledge  of 
eternal  truth  and  immutable  right,  upon  this  Christianity  placed 
its  imprimatur.  And  at  those  points  where  human  reason  had 
been  made  conscious  of  its  own  inefficiency,  and  compelled  to 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  473 

own  its  weakness  and  its  failure,  Christianity  shed  an  effulgent 
and  convincing  light. 

Therefore  the  prep^atory  office  of  Greek  religion  and  Greek 
philosophy  is  fully  recognized  by  Pau}  in  his  address  to  the 
Athenians.  He  begins  by  saying  that  the  observations  he  had 
made  enabled  him  to  bear  witness  that  the  Athenians  were  in- 
deed, in  every  respect,  "  a  God-fearing  people  ;" — that  the  God 
whom  they  knew  so  imperfectly  as  to  designate  Him  "  the  Un- 
known," but  whom  "  they  worshipped,"  was  the  God  he  wor- 
shipped, and  would  now  more  fully  declare  to  them.  He  as- 
sures them  that  their  past  history,  and  their  present  geographi- 
cal position,  had  been  the  object  of  Divine  foreknowledge  and 
determination.  "  He  hath  determined  beforehand  the  times  of 
each  nation's  existence,  and  fixed  the  geographical  boundaries 
of  their  habitation,"  all  with  this  specific  design,  that  they  might 
"  seek  aft^r,"  "  feel  after,"  and  "  find  the  Lord,"  who  had  never 
been  far  from  any  one  of  them.  He  admits  that  their  poet-phi- 
losophers had  risen  to  a  lofty  apprehension  of  "  the  Fatherhood 
of  God,"  for  they  had  taught  that  "we  are  all  his  offspring;"  and 
he  seems  to  have  felt  that  in  asserting  the  common  brotherhood 
of  our  race,  he  would  strike  a  chord  of  sympathy  in  the  loftiest 
school  of  Gentile  philosophy.  He  thus  "  recognized  the  Spirit 
of  God  brooding  over  the  face  of  heathenism,  and  fructifying 
the  spiritual  element  in  the  heart  even  of  the  natural  man.  He 
feels  that  in  these  human  principles  there  were  some  faint  ad- 
umbrations of  the  divine,  and  he  looked  for  their  firmer  delin- 
eation to  the  figure  of  that  gracious  Master,  higher  and  holier 
than  man,  whom  he  contemplated  in  his  own  imagination,  and 
whom  he  was  about  to  present  to  them."* 

This  function  of  ancient  philosophy  is  distinctly  recognized 
by  many  of  the  greatest  of  the  Fathers,  as  Justin,  Clement, 
Origen,  Augustine,  and  Theodoret.  Justin  Martyr  believed 
that  a  ray  of  the  Divine  Logos  shone  on  the  mind  of  the  hea- 
then, and  that  the  human  soul  instinctively  turned  towards  God 
as  the  plant  turns  towards  the  sun.  "  Every  race  of  men  par- 
*  Merivale's  **  Conversion  of  the  Roman  Empire,"  p.  78. 


474  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

ticipated  in  the  Word.  And  they  who  lived  with  the  Word 
were  Christians,  even  if  they  were  held  to  be  godless ;  as,  for 
example,  among  the  Greeks,  Socrates  and  Heraclitus,  and  those 
like  them."^  Clement  taught  that  "philosophy,  before  the  com- 
ing of  the  Lord,  was  necessary  to  the  Greeks  for  righteousness  ; 
and  now  it  proved  useful  for  godliness,  being  a  sort  of  prelimi- 
inary  discipline  for  those  who  reap  the  fruits  of  faith  through 

demonstration Perhaps  we  may  say  that  it  was  given  to 

the  Greeks  with  this  special  object,  for  it  brought  the  Greek 
nation  to  Christ  as  the  Law  brought  the  Hebrews."^  "Philoso- 
phy was  given  as  a  peculiar  testament  to  the  Greeks,  as  forming 
the  basis  of  the  Christian  philosophy."^  Referring  to  the  words 
of  Paul,  Origen  says,  the  truths  which  philosophers  taught  were 
from  God,  for  "  God  manifested  these  to  them,  and  all  things 
that  have  been  nobly  said."*  And  Augustine,  whilst  depreca- 
ting the  extravagant  claims  made  for  the  great  Gentile  teach- 
ers, allows  "  that  some  of  them  made  great  discoveries,  so  far 
as  they  received  help  from  heaven ;  whilst  they  erred  as  far  as 
they  were  hindered  by  human  frailty."*  They  had,  as  he  else- 
where observes,  "  a  distant  vision  of  the  truth,  and  learnt,  from 
the  teaching  of  nature,  what  prophets  learnt  from  the  spirit."* 
In  addressing  the  Greeks,  Theodoret  says,  "Obey  your  own 
philosophers ;  let  them  be  your  initiators ;  for  they  announced 
beforehand  our  doctrines."  He  held  that  "in  the  depths  of  hu- 
man nature  there  are  characters  inscribed  by  the  hand  of  God." 
And  that  "if  the  race  of  Abraham  received  the  divine  law,  and 
the  gift  of  prophecy,  the  God  of  the  universe  led  other  nations 
to  piety  by  natural  revelation,  and  the  spectacle  of  nature."'' 

In  attempting  to  account  for  this  partial  harmony  between 
Philosophy  and  Revelation,  we  find  the  Patristic  writers  adopt- 
ing different  theories.     They  are  generally  agreed  in  maintain- 

^  "  First  Apology,"  ch.  xlvi.  '  "  Stromata,"  bk.  i.  ch.  v. 

'  "  Stromata,"  bk.  vi.  ch.  viii.  *  "  Contra  Celsum,"  bk.  vi.  ch.  iii. 

*  "  De  Civitate  Dei,"  bk.  ii.  ch.  vii.        *  Sermon  Ixviii.  3. 

'  See  Smith's  "  Bible  Dictionary,"  article  "  Philosophy ;"  Pressens6,  "  Re- 
ligions before  Christ,"  p.  11;  Butler's  **  Lectures  on  Ancient  Philosophy," 
vol.  ii.  pp.  28-40. 


GREEK  PJSILOJSOPSY.  475 

ing  some  original  connection,  but  they  differ  as  to  its  immediate 
source.  Some  of  them  maintained  that  the  ancient  philoso- 
phers derived  their  purest  light  from  the  fountain  of  Divine 
Revelation.  The  doctrines  of  the  Old  Testament  Scriptures 
were  traditionally  diffused  throughout  the  West  before  the  rise 
of  philosophic  speculation.  If  the  theistic  conceptions  of 
Plato  are  superior  to  those  of  Homer  it  is  accounted  for  by  his 
(hypothetical)  tour  of  inquiry  among  the  Hebrew  nation,  as 
well  as  his  Egyptian  investigations.  Others  maintained  that 
the  similarity  of  views  on  the  character  of  the  Supreme  Being 
and  the  ultimate  destination  of  humanity  which  is  found  in  the 
writings  of  Plato  and  the  teachings  of  the  Bible  is  the  conse- 
.quence  of  immediate  inspiration.  Origen,  Jerome,  Eusebius, 
Clement,  do  not  hesitate  to  affirm  that  Christ  himself  revealed 
his  own  high  prerogatives  to  the  gifted  Grecian.  From  this 
hypothesis,  however,  the  facts  of  the  case  compel  them  to  make 
some  abatements.  In  the  mid-current  of  this  divine  revelation 
are  found  many  acknowledged  errors,  which  it  is  impossible  to 
ascribe  to  the  celestial  illuminator.  Plato,  then,  was  partially 
inspired,  and  clouded  the  heavenly  beam  with  the  remaining 
grossnesses  of  the  natural  sense.  ^  Whilst  a  third,  and  more 
reasonable,  hypothesis  was  maintained  by  others.  They  re- 
garded man  as  "the  offspring  and  image  of  the  Deity,"  and 
maintained  there  must  be  a  correlation  of  the  human  and  divine 
reason,  and,  consequently,  of  all  discovered  truth  to  God. 
Therefore  they  expected  to  find  some  traces  of  connection  and 
correspondence  between  Divine  and  human  thought,  and  some 
kindred  ideas  in  Philosophy  and  Revelation.  "Ideas,"  says 
St.  Augustine,  "  are  the  primordial  forms,  as  it  were,  the  immu- 
table reason  of  things ;  they  are  not  created,  they  are  eternal, 
and  always  the  same  :  they  are  contained  in  the  Divine  intelli- 
gence ;  and  without  being  subject  to  birth  and  death,  they  are 
types  according  to  which  is  formed  every  thing  that  is  born  and 
dies."  The  copies  of  these  archetypes  are  seen  in  nature,  and 
are  participated  in  by  the  reason  of  man  ;  and  there  may  there- 
*  Butler's  **  Lectures  on  Ancient  Philosophy,"  vol.  ii.  p.  41. 


476  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

fore  be  some  community  of  idea  between  man  and  God,  and 
some  relation  between  Philosophy  and  Christianity. 

The  various  attempts  which  have  been  made  to  trace  the 
elevated  theism  and  morality  of  Socrates  and  Plato  to  Jewish 
sources  have  signally  failed.  Justin  Martyr  and  TertuUian 
claim  that  the  ancient  philosophers  "  borrowed  from  the  Jewish 
prophets."  Pythagoras  and  Plato  are  supposed  to  have  trav- 
elled in  the  East  in  quest  of  knowledge.'  The  latter  is  imag- 
ined to  have  had  access  to  an  existing  Greek  version  of  the 
Old  Testament  in  Egypt,  and  a  strange  oversight  in  chronology 
brings  him  into  personal  intercourse  with  the  prophet  Jeremiah. 
A  sober  and  enlightened  criticism  is  compelled  to  pronounce 
all  these  statements  as  mere  exaggerations  of  later  times.^ 
They  are  obviously  mere  suppositions  by  which  over-zealous 
Christians  sought  to  maintain  the  supremacy  and  authority  of 
Scripture.  The  travels  of  Pythagoras  are  altogether  mythical, 
the  mere  invention  of  Alexandrian  writers,  who  believed  that 
all  wisdom  flowed  from  the  East'  That  Plato  visited  Egypt 
at  all,  rests  on  the  single  authority  of  Strabo,  who  lived  at  least 
four  centuries  after  Plato ;  there  is  no  trace  in  his  own  works 
of  Egyptian  research.  His  pretended  travels  in  Phoenicia, 
where  he  gained  from  the  Jews  a  knowledge  of  the  true  God, 
are  more  unreliable  still.  Plato  lived  in  the  fourth  century 
before  Christ  (born  B.C.  430),  and  there  is  no  good  evidence 
of  the  existence  of  a  Greek  version  of  the  Old  Testament  be- 
fore that  of  "  the  Seventy "  (Septuagint),.  made  by  order  of 
Ptolemy  Philadelphus,  b.c.  270.  Jeremiah,  the  prophet  of 
Israel,  lived  two  centuries  before  Plato  ;  consequently  any 
personal  intercourse  between  the  two  was  simply  impossible. 
Greek  philosophy  was  unquestionably  a  development  of  Rea- 
son alone.* 

^  Mr.  Watson  adopts  this  hypothesis  to  account  for  the  theistic  opinions 
of  the  ancient  philosophers  of  Greece.  See  "  Institutes  of  Theology,"  vol.  i. 
pp.  26-34. 

^  Ritter's  "  History  of  Ancient  Philosophy,"  vol.  ii.  p.  147. 

^  Max  MUller,  "  Science  of  Language,"  p.  94. 

*  See  on  this  subject,  Ritter's  "  History  of  Ancient  Philosophy,"  vol.  i. 


OBEEK  PHILOSOPHY.  477 

Some  of  the  ablest  Christian  scholars  and  divines  of  modern- 
times,  as  Cudworth,  Neander,  Trench,  Pressense,  Merivale, 
Schaff,  after  the  most  careful  and  conscientious  investigation, 
have  come  to  this  conclusion,  that  Greek  philosophy  fulfilled 
a  preparatory  mission  for  Christianity.  The  general  conclu- 
sions they  reached  are  forcibly  presented  in  the  words  of  Pres- 
sense : 

"  It  would  be  difficult  to  overstate  the  importance  of  Greek 
philosophy  when  viewed  as  a  preparation  to  Christianity.  Dis- 
interested pursuit  of  truth  is  always  a  great  and  noble  task. 
The  imperishable  want  of  the  human  mind  to  go  back  to  first 
principles,  suffices  to  prove  that  this  principle  is  divine.  We 
may  abuse  speculation ;  we  may  turn  it  into  one  of  the  most 
powerful  dissolvents  of  moral  truths;  and  the  defenders  of 
positive  creeds,  alarmed  by  the  attitude  too  often  assumed  by 
speculation  in  the  presence  of  religion,  have  condemned  it  as 
mischievous  in  itself,  confounding  in  their  unjust  prejudice  its 
use  and  its  abuse.  But,  for  all  serious  thinkers,  philosophy  is 
one  of  the  highest  titles  of  nobility  that  humanity  possesses : 
and  when  we  consider  its  mission  previous  to  Christianity,  we 
feel  convinced  that  it  had  its  place  in  the  Divine  plan.  It  was 
not  religion  in  itself  that  philosophy,  through  its  noblest  repre- 
sentatives, combated,  but  polytheism.  It  dethroned  the  false 
gods.  Adopting  what  was  best  in  paganism,  philosophy  em- 
ployed it  as  an  instrument  to  destroy  paganism,  and  thus  clear 
the  way  for  definite  religion.  Above  all,  it  efiectually  contrib- 
uted to  purify  the  idea  of  Divinity,  though  this  purification  was 
but  an  approximation.  If  at  times  it  caught  glimpses  of  the 
highest  spiritualism,  yet  it  was  unable  to  protect  itself  against 
the  return  and  reaction  of  Oriental  dualism.  In  spite  of  this 
imperfection,  which  in  its  way  served  the  cause  of  Christianity 
by  demonstrating  the  necessity  of  revelation,  men  like  Socrates 
and  Plato  fulfilled  amongst  their  people  a  really  sublime  mis- 

pp.  147,  148 ;  Encyclopaedia  Britannica,  article  "  Plato,"  vol.  xvii.  p.  787 ; 
Smith's  "  Bible  Dictionary,"  article  "Philosophy;"  and  Thompson's  "Laws 
of  Thought,"  p.  326. 


478  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

sion.  They  were  to  the  heathen  world  the  great  prophets  of 
the  human  conscience,  which  woke  up  at  their  call.  And  the 
awakening  of  the  moral  sense  was  at  once  the  glory  and  ruin 
of  philosophy;  for  conscience,  once  aroused,  could  only  be 
satisfied  by  One  greater  than  they,  and  must  necessarily  reject 
all  systems  which  proved  themselves  insufficient  to  realize  the 
moral  idea  they  had  evoked. 

"  But  to  perish  thus,  and  for  such  a  cause,  is  a  high  honor 
to  a  philosophy.  It  was  this  made  the  philosophy  of  Greece, 
like  the  Hebrew  laws,  though  in  an  inferior  sense,  a  school- 
master that  led  to  Jesus  Christ,  according  to  the  expression  of 
Clement  of  Alexandria.  Viewed  in  this  light,  it  was  a  true 
gift  of  God,  and  had,  too,  the  shadow  of  good  things  to  come, 
awakening  the  presentiment  and  desire  of  them,  though  it 
could  not  communicate  them.  Nor  can  we  conceive  a  better 
way  to  prepare  for  the  advent  of  Him  who  was  to  be  *  the  De- 
sire of  Nations '  before  becoming  their  Saviour."^ 

In  previous  chapters  we  have  endeavored  to  sketch  the 
history  of  the  development  of  metaphysical  thought,  of  moral 
feeling  and  idea,  and  of  religious  sentiment  and  want,  which 
characterized  Grecian  civilization.  In  now  offering  a  brief 
resume  of  the  history  of  that  development,  with  the  design  of 
more  fully  exhibiting  the  preparatory  office  it  fulfilled  for 
Christianity,  we  shall  assume  that  the  mind  of  the  reader  has 
already  been  furnished  and  disciplined  by  preparatory  princi- 
ples. He  can  scarce  have  failed  to  recognize  that  this  devel- 
opment obeyed  a  general  law,  however  modified  by  exterior 
and  geographical  conditions;  the  same  law,  in  fact,  which 
governs  the  development  of  all  individual  finite  minds,  and 
which  law  may  be  formulated  thus  : — All  finite  mind  develops 
itself,  first,  in  instinctive  determinations  and  spontaneous  faiths ; 
then  ifi  rising  doubt,  and  earnest  questioning,  and  ill-directed  in- 
quiry;  and,  finally,  in  systematic  philosophic  thought,  and  rational 
belief  These  different  stages  succeed  each  other  in  the  indi- 
vidual mind. '  There  is,  first,  the  simplicity  and  trust  of  child- 
^  "  Religions  before  Christ,"  pp.  loi,  102. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  479 

hood ;  secondly,  the  undirected  and  unsettled  force  of  youth ; 
and,  thirdly,  the  wisdom  of  mature  age.  And  these  different 
stages  have  also  succeeded  each  other  in  the  universal  mind  of 
humanity.  There  has  been,  ist.  The  era  of  spontaneous  beliefs 
— of  popular  and  semi-conscious  theism,  morality,  and  religion. 
2d.  The  transitional  age — the  age  of  doubt,  of  inquiry,  and  of 
ill-directed  mental  effort,  ending  in  fruitless  sophism,  or  in 
skepticism.  3d.  The  philosophic  or  conscious  age — the  age  of 
reflective  consciousness,  in  which,  by  the  analysis  of  thought, 
the  first  principles  of  knowledge  are  attained,  the  necessary 
laws  of  thought  are  discovered,  and  man  arrives  at  positive 
convictions,  and  rational  beliefs.  In  the  history  of  Grecian 
civilization,  the  first  is  the  Homeric  age ;  the  second  is  the 
pre-Socratic  age,  ending  with  the  Sophists ;  and  the  third  is 
the  grand  Socratic  period.  History  is  thus  the  development 
of  the  fundamental  elements  of  humanity,  according  to  an  es- 
tablished law,  and  under  conditions  which  are  ordained  and 
supervised  by  the  providence  of  God.  "  The  unity  of  civiliza- 
tion is  in  the  unity  of  human  nature ;  its  varieties,  in  the  vari- 
ety of  the  elements  of  humanity,"  which  elements  have  been 
.successively  developed  in  the  course  of  history.  All  that  is 
fundamental  in  human  nature  passes  into  the  movement  of 
civilization.  "  I  say  all  that  is  fundamental ;  for  it  is  the  ex- 
cellency of  history  to  take  out,  and  throw  away  all  that  is  not 
necessary  and  essential.  That  which  is  individual  shines  for 
a  day,  and  is  extinguished  forever,  or  stops  at  biography." 
Nothing  endures,  except  that  which  is  fundamental  and  true — 
that  which  is  vital,  and  organizes  itself,  develops  itself,  and 
arrives  at  an  historical  existence.  "  Therefore  as  human  nature 
is  the  matter  and  basis  of  history,  history  is,  so  to  speak,  the 
judge  of  human  nature,  and  historical  analysis  is  the  counter- 
proof  of  psychological  analysis."^ 

Nature,  individual  mind,  and  collective  humanity,  all  obey 
the  law  of  progressive  development ;  otherwise  there  could  be 
no  history,  for  history  is  only  of  that  which  has  movement  and 
^  Cousin's  "  Lectures  on  the  History  of  Philosophy,"  vol.  i.  p.  31. 


480  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

progress.  Now,  all  progress  is  from  the  indefinite  to  the  defi- 
nite, fi-om  the  inorganic  to  the  organic  and  vital,  from  the  in- 
stinctive to  the  rational,  from  a  dim,  nebulous  self-feeling  to  a 
high  reflective  consciousness,  from  sensuous  images  to  abstract 
conceptions  and  spiritual  ideas.  This  progressive  develop- 
ment of  nature  and  humanity  has  not  been  a  series  of  crea- 
tions de  novo,  without  any  relation,  in  matter  or  form,  to  that 
which  preceded.  All  of  the  present  was  contained  in  embry- 
onic infoldment  in  the  past,  and  the  past  has  contributed  its 
results  to  the  present'  The  present,  both  in  nature,  and  his- 
tory, and  civilization,  is,  so  to  speak,  the  aggregate  and  sum- 
total  of  the  past.  As  the  natural  history  of  the  earth  may  now 
be  read  in  the  successive  strata  and  deposits  which  form  its 
crust,  so  the  history  of  humanity  may  be  read  in  the  successive 
deposits  of  thought  and  language,  of  philosophy  and  art,  which 
register  its  gradual  progression.  As  the  paleontological  re- 
mains imbedded  in  the  rocks  present  a  succession  of  organic 
types  which  gradually  improve  in  form  and  function,  from  the 
first  sea-weed  to  the  palm-tree,  and  from  the  protozoa  to  the 
highest  vertebrate,  so  the  history  of  ancient  philosophy  presents 
a  gradual  progress  in  metaphysical,  ethical,  and  thcistic  con- 
ceptions, from  the  unreflective  consciousness  of  the  Homeric 
age,  to  the  high  reflective  consciousness  of  the  Platonic  period. 
And  as  all  the  successive  forms  of  life  in  pre-Adamic  ages 
were  a  preparation  for  and  a  prophecy  of  the  coming  of  man, 
so  the  advancing  forms  of  philosophic  thought,  during  the 
grand  ages  of  Grecian  civilization,  were  a  preparation  and  a 
prophecy  of  the  coming  of  the  Son  of  God. 

We  shall  now  endeavor  to  trace  this  process  of  gradual 
preparation  for  Christianity  in  the  Greek  mind — 

'  The  writer  would  not  be  understood  as  favoring  the  idea  that  this  de- 
velopment is  simply  the  result  of  "  natural  law."  The  connection  between 
the  past  and  the  present  is  not  a  material,  but  a  mental  connection.  It  is 
the  bond  of  Creative  Thought  and  Will  giving  to  organic  forces  a  foreseen 
direction  towards  the  working  out  of  a  grand  plan.  See  Agassiz,  "  Contri- 
butions to  Natural  History,"  vol.  i.  pp.  9,  10;  Duke  of  Argyll,  "Reign  of 
Law,"  ch.  v. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  481. 

(i.)  In  the  field  of  Hb.y\%t\<z  conceptions. 
(ii.)  In  the  department  <?/*  Ethical  ideas  and  principles. 
(iii.)  In  the  region  <?/" Religious  sentiment. 

In  the  field  of  theistic  conception  the  propaedeutic  office  of 
Grecian  philosophy  is  seen — 

I.  In  the  release  of  the  popular  mind  from  Polytheistic  notions, 
and  the  purifying  and  spiritualizing  of  the  Theistic  idea. 

The  idea  of  a  Supreme  Power,  a  living  Personality,  energiz- 
ing in  nature,  and  presiding  over  the  affairs  of  men,  is  not  the 
product  of  philosophy.  It  is  the  immanent,  spontaneous 
thought  of  humanity.  It  has,  therefore,  existed  in  all  ages, 
and  revealed  itself  in  all  minds,  even  when  it  has  not  been 
presented  to  the  understanding  as  a  definite  conception,  and 
expressed  by  human  language  in  a  logical  form.  It  is  the 
thought  which  instinctively  arises  in  the  opening  reason  of 
childhood,  as  the  dim  and  shadowy  consciousness  of  a  living 
mind  behind  all  the  movement  and  change  of  the  universe. 
%%  Then  comes  the  period  of  doubt,  of  anxious  questioning,  and 
independent  inquiry.  The  youth  seeks  to  account  to  himself 
for  this  peculiar  sentiment.  He  turns  his  earnest  gaze  towards 
nature,  and  through  this  living  vesture  of  the  infinite  he  seeks 
to  catch  some  glimpses  of  the  living  Soul.  In  some  fact  ap- 
preciable to  sense,  in  some  phenomenon  he  can  see,  or  hear,  or 
touch,  he  would  fain  grasp  the  cause  and  reason  of  all  that  is. 
But  in  this  field  of  inquiry  and  by  this  method  he  finds  only  a 
"  receding  God,"  who  falls  back  as  he  approaches,  and  is  ever 
still  beyond ;  and  he  sinks  down  in  exhaustion  and  feebleness, 
the  victim  of  doubt,  perhaps  despair.  Still  the  sentiment  of 
the  Divine  remains,  a  living  force,  in  the  centre  of  his  moral 
being.  He  turns  his  scrutinizing  gaze  within,  and  by  self-re- 
flection seeks  for  some  rational  ground  for  his  instinctive  faith. 
There  he  finds  some  convictions  he  can  not  doubt,  some  ideas 
he  can  not  call  in  question,  some  thoughts  he  is  compelled  to 
think,  some  necessary  and  universal  principles  which  in  their 
natural  and  logical  development  ally  him  to  an  unseen  world, 

31 


482  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

and  correlate  and  bind  him  fast  to  an  invisible,  but  real  God. 
The  more  his  mind  is  disciplined  by  abstract  thought,  the 
clearer  do  these  necessary  and  universal  principles  become,  and 
the  purer  and  more  spiritual  his  ideas  of  God.  God  is  now  for 
him  the  First  Principle  of  all  principles,  the  First  Truth  of  all 
truths  j  the  Eternal  Reason,  the  Immutable  Righteousness,  the 
Supreme  Good.  The  normal  and  healthy  development  of 
reason,  the  maturity  of  thought,  conduct  to  the  recognition  of 
the  true  God. 

And  so  it  has  been  in  the  universal  consciousness  of  our 
race  as  revealed  in  history.  There  was  first  a  period  of  spon- 
taneous and  unreflective  Theism,  in  which  man  felt  the  con- 
sciousness of  God,  but  could  not  or  did  not  attempt  a  rational 
explanation  of  his  instinctive  faith.  He  saw  God  in  clouds 
and  heard  Him  in  the  wind.  His  smile  nourished  the  corn, 
and  cheered  the  vine.  The  lightnings  were  the  flashes  of  his 
vengeful  ire,  and  the  thunder  was  his  angry  voice.  But  the 
unity  of  God  was  feebly  grasped,  the  lays  of  the  Divinity 
seemed  divided  and  scattered  amidst  the  separate  manifesta- 
tions of  power,  and  wisdom,  and  goodness,  and  retribution, 
which  nature  presented.  Then  plastic  art,  to  aid  and  impress 
the  imagination,  created  its  symbols  of  these  separate  powers 
and  principles,  chiefly  in  human  form,  and  gods  were  multi- 
plied. But  all  this  polytheism  still  rested  on  a  dim  monotheis- 
tic background,  and  all  the  gods  were  subordinated  to  Zeus — 
"the  Father  of  gods  and  men."  Humanity  had  still  the  sense 
of  the  dependence  of  all  finite  being  on  one  great  fountain- 
head  of  Intelligence  and  Power,  and  all  the  "  generated  gods  " 
were  the  subjects  and  ministers  of  that  One  Supreme.  This 
was  the  childhood  of  humanity  so  vividly  represented  in  Ho- 
meric poetry. 

Then  came  a  period  of  incipient  reflection,  and  speculative 
thought,  in  which  the  attention  of  man  is  drawn  outward  to  the 
study  pf  nature,  of  which  he  can  yet  only  recognize  himself  as 
an  integral  part.  He  searches  for  some  apxh — some  first  prin- 
ciple, appreciable  to  sense,  which  in  in  its  evolution  shall  fur- 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  483 

nish  an  explanation  of  the  problem  of  existence.  He  tries  the 
hypothesis  of  "  water, ^^  then  of  "  air,^'  then  of  ^^fire^^  as  the 
primal  element,  which  either  is  itself,  or  in  some  way  infolds 
within  itself  an  informing  Soul,  and  out  of  which,  by  vital 
transformation,  all  things  else  are  produced.  But  here  he 
failed  to  find  an  adequate  explanation ;  his  reason  was  not  sat- 
isfied. Then  he  sought  his  first  principle  in ' "  numbers  "  as 
symbols,  and,  in  some  sense,  as  the  embodiment  of  the  ra- 
tional conceptions  of  order,  proportion,  and  harmony, — God  is 
the  original  \xovaq — unity — One  ; — or  else  he  sought  it  in  pure- 
ly abstract  ''ideas,''  as  unity,  infinity,  identity,  and  all  things 
are  the  evolution  of  an  eternal  thought,  one  and  identical, 
which  is  God.  And  here  again  he  fails.  Then  he  supposes 
an  unlimited  py/ia — a  chaotic  mixture  of  elements  existing 
from  eternity,  which  was  separated,  combined,  and  organized 
by  the  energy  of  a  Supreme  Mind,  the  vovq  of  Anaxagoras. 
But  he  holds  not  firmly  to  this  great  principle ;  "  he  recurs 
again  to  air,  and  ether,  and  water,  as  causes  for  the  ordering  of 
all  things."^  And  after  repeated  attempts  and  failures,  he  is 
disappointed  in  his  inquiry,  and  falls  a  prey  to  doubt  and  skep- 
ticism. This  was  the  early  youth  of  our  humanity,  the  period 
that  opens  with  Thales  and  ends  with  the  Sophists. 

The  problem  of  existence  still  waits  for  and  demands  a  so- 
lution. The  heart  of  man,  also,  still  cries  out  for  the  living 
God.  The  Socratic  maxim,  "  know  thyself,"  introverts  the  men- 
tal gaze,  and  self-reflection  now  becomes  the  method  of  phi- 
losophy. The  Platonic  analysis  of  thought  reveals  elements 
of  knowledge  which  are  not  derived  from  the  outer  world. 
There  are  universal  and  necessary  principles  revealed  in  con- 
sciousness which,  in  their  natural  and  logical  development,  tran- 
scend consciousness,  and  furnish  the  cognition  of  a  world  of 
Real  Being,  beyond  the  world  of  sense.  There  are  absolute 
truths  which  bridge  the  chasm  between  the  seen  and  the  un- 
seen, the  fleeting  and  the  permanent,  the  finite  and  the  infinite, 
the  temporal  and  the  eternal.  There  are  necessary  laws  of 
^  Thus  Socrates  complains  of  Anaxagoras.     See  "  Phasdo,"  §  108. 


484  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

thought  which  are  also  found  to  be  laws  of  things,  and  which 
correlate  man  to  a  living,  personal,  righteous  Lord  and  Law- 
giver. From  absolute  ideas  Plato  ascends  to  an  absolute  Be- 
ings the  author  of  all  finite  existence.  From  absolute  truths  to 
an  absolute  Reaso7i^  the  foundation  and  essence  of  all  truth. 
From  the  principle  of  immutable  right  to  an  absolutely  righteous 
Being.  From  the  necessary  idea  of  the  good  to  a  being  of  ab- 
solute Goodness — that  is,  to  God.  This  is  the  maturity  of  hu- 
manity, the  ripening  manhood  of  our  race  which  was  attained 
in  the  Socratic  age. 

The  inevitable  tendency  of  this  effort  of  speculative  thought, 
spread  over  ages,  and  of  the  intellectual  culture  which  neces- 
sarily resulted,  was  to  undermine  the  old  polytheistic  religion, 
and  to  purify  and  elevate  the  theistic  conception.  The  school 
of  Elea  rejected  the  gross  anthropomorphism  of  the  Homeric 
theology.  Xenophanes,  the  founder  of  the  school,  was  a  be- 
liever in 

**  One  God,  of  all  beings  divine  and  human  the  greatest, 
Neither  in  body  alike  unto  mortals,  neither  in  ideas." 

And  he  repels  with  indignation  the  anthropomorphic  represen- 
tations of  the  Deity. 

"But  men  foolishly  think  that  gods  are  born  as  men  are, 
And  have,  too,  a  dress  like  their  own,  and  their  voice,  and  their  figure : 
But  if  oxen  and  lions  had  hands  like  ours,  and  fingers. 
Then  would  horses  like  unto  horses,  and  oxen  to  oxen. 
Paint  and  fashion  their  god-forms,  and  give  to  them  bodies 
Of  like  shape  to  their  own,  as  they  themselves  too  are  fashioned."* 

Empedocles  also  wages  uncompromising  war  against  all  repre- 
sentations of  the  Deity  in  human  form — 

"  For  neither  with  head  adjusted  to  limbs,  like  the  human, 
Nor  yet  with  two  branches  down  from  the  shoulders  outstretching, 

Neither  with  feet,  nor  swift-moving  limbs, 

He  is,  wholly  and  perfectly,  mind,  ineffable,  holy, 

With  rapid  and  swift-glancing  thought  pervading  the  world."" 

When  speaking  of  the  mythology  of  the  older  Greeks,  Socrates 
maintains  a  becoming  prudence;  he  is  evidently  desirous  to 

*  Ritter's  "  History  of  Ancient  Philosophy,"  vol.  i.  pp.  431,  432. 
^  Ibid.,  vol.  i.  pp.  495,  496. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  485 

avoid  every  thing  which  would  tend  to  loosen  the  popular  rever- 
ence for  divine  things/  But  he  was  opposed  to  all  anthropo- 
morphic conceptions  of  the  Deity.  His  fundamental  position 
was  that  the  Deity  is  the  Supreme  Reason,  which  is  to  be  hon- 
ored by  men  as  the  source  of  all  existence  and  the  end  of  all 
human  endeavor.  Notwithstanding  his  recognition  of  a  num- 
ber of  subordinate  divinities,  he  held  that  the  Divine  is  one, 
because  Reason  is  one.  He  taught  that  the  Supreme  Being  is 
the  immaterial,  infinite  Governor  of  all  f  that  the  world  bears 
the  stamp  of  his  intelligence,  and  attests  it  by  irrefragable  evi- 
dence f  and  that  he  is  the  author  and  vindicator  of  all  moral 
laws.*  So  that,  in  reality,  he  did  more  to  overthrow  polytheism 
than  any  of  his  predecessors,  and  on  that  account  was  doomed 
to  death. 

It  was,  however,  the  matured  dialectic  of  Plato  which  gave 
the  death-blow  to  polytheism.  "Plato,  the  poet-philosopher, 
sacrificed  Homer  himself  to  monotheism.  We  may  measure 
the  energy  of  his  conviction  by  the  greatness  of  the  sacrifice. 
He  could  not  pardon  the  syren  whose  songs  had  fascinated 
Greece,  the  fresh  brilliant  poetry  that  had  inspired  its  religion. 
He  crowned  it  with  flowers,  but  banished  it,  because  it  had 
lowered  the  religious  ideal  of  conscience."  He  was  sensible 
of  the  beauty  of  the  Homeric  fables,  but  he  was  also  keenly 
alive  to  their  religious  falsehood,  and  therefore  he  excluded  the 
poets  from  his  ideal  republic.  In  the  education  of  youth,  he 
would  forbid  parents  and  teachers  repeating  "  the  stories  which 
Hesiod  and  Homer  and  the  other  poets  told  us."  And  after 
instancing  a  number  of  these  stories  "which  deserve  the 
gravest  condemnation,"  he  enjoins  that  God  must  be  repre- 
sented as  he  is  in  reality.  "  God,"  says  he,  "  is,  beyond  all  else, 
good  in  reality,  and  therefore  so  to  be  represented ;"  "  he  can 
not  do  evil,  or  be  the  cause  of  evil ;"  "  he  is  of  simple  essence, 

^  Xenophon,  "  Memorabilia,"  bk.  i.  ch.  iii.  §  3. 

=  Id,  ib.,  bk  i.  ch.  iv.  §§  17,  18.  ^  Id.,  ib.,  bk  i.  ch.  i.  §  19. 

*  Ritter's  '*  History  of  Ancient  Philosophy,"  vol.  ii.  p.  63  ;  Butler's  "  Lec- 
tures on  Ancient  Philosophy,"  vol.  i.  p.  359. 


486  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

and  can  not  change,  or  be  the  subject  of  change;"  "there  is 
no  imperfection  in  the  beauty  or  goodness  of  God ;"  "  he  is  a 
God  of  truth,  and  can  not  lie  ;"  "  he  is  a  being  of  perfect  sim- 
pHcity  and  truth  in  deed  and  word."^  The  reader  can  not  fail 
to  recognize  the  close  resemblance  between  the  language  of 
Plato  and  the  language  of  inspiration. 

The  theistic  conception,  in  Plato,  reaches  the  highest  purity 
and  spirituality.  God  is  "the  Supreme  Mmd,'^  "incorporeal," 
"  unchangeable,"  "  infinite,"  "  absolutely  perfect,"  "  essentially 
good,"  "  unoriginated  and  eternal."  He  is  "  the  Father  and 
Maker  of  the  world,"  "  the  efficient  Cause  of  all  things,"  "  the 
Monarch  and  Ruler  of  the  world,"  "  the  Sovereign  Mind  that 
orders  all  things,"  and  "pervades  all  things."  He  is  "the 
sole  principle  of  all  things,"  "  the  beginning  of  all  truth,"  "  the 
fountain  of  all  law  and  justice,"  "the  source  of  all  order  and 
beauty;"  in  short,  He  is  "the  beginning,  middle,  and  end  of 
all  things."' 

Aristotle  continued  the  work  of  undermining  polytheism. 
He  defines  God  as  "the  Eternal  Reason"  —  the  Supreme 
Mind.  "  He  is  the  immovable  cause  of  all  movement  in  the 
universe,  the  all-perfect  principle.  This  principle  or  essence 
pervades  all  things.  It  eternally  possesses  perfect  happiness, 
and  its  happiness  consists  in  energy.  This  primeval  mover  is 
^7  immaterial,  for  its  essence  is  energy — it  is  pure  thought,  thought 
f  thinking  itself— the  thought  of  thought.  "^  Polytheism  is  thus 
swept  away  from  the  higher  regions  of  the  intelligence.  "  For 
several  to  command,"  says  he,  "  is  not  good,  there  should  be 
but  one  chief  A  tradition,  handed  down  from  the  remotest 
antiquity,  and  transmitted  under  the  veil  of  fable,  says  that  all 
the  stars  are  gods,  and  that  the  Divinity  embraces  the  whole  of . 
nature.  And  round  this  idea  other  mythical  statements  have 
been  agglomerated,  with  a  view  to  influencing  the  vulgar,  and 
for  political  and  moral  expediency ;  as  for  instance,  they  feigned 

^  "  Republic,"  bk.ii.§§  1 8-2 1. 

^  See  antey  ch.  xi.  pp.  377,  378,  where  the  references  to  Plato's  writings 
are  given.  ^  "  Metaphysics,"  bk.  xii. 


QBEEK  PHILOSOPHY.  487 

that  these  gods  have  human  shape,  and  are  like  certain  of  the 
animals  ;  and  other  stories  of  the  kind  are  added  on.  Now,  if 
any  one  will  separate  from  all  this  the  first  point  alone,  namely, 
that  they  thought  the  first  and  deepest  grounds  of  existence  to 
be  Divine,  he  may  consider  it  a  divine  utterance."^  The  pop- 
ular polytheism,  then,  was  but  a  perverted  fragment  of  a  deeper 
and  purer  "Theology."  This  passage  is  a  sort  of  obituary  of 
polytheism.  The  ancient  glory  of  paganism  had  passed  away. 
Philosophy  had  exploded  the  old  theology.  Man  had  learned 
enough  to  make  him  renounce  the  ancient  religion,  but  not 
enough  to  found  a  new  faith  that  could  satisfy  both  the  intellect 
and  the  heart.  "Wherefore  we  are  not  to  be  surprised  that 
the  grand  philosophic  period  should  be  followed  by  one  of  in- 
credulity and  moral  collapse,  inaugurating  the  long  and  univer- 
sal decadence  which  was,  perhaps,  as  necessary  to  the  work  of 
preparation,  as  was  the  period  of  religious  and  philosophic  de- 
velopment." 

The  preparatory  office  of  Greek  philosophy  in  the  region  of 
speculative  thought  is  seen — 

2.  In  the  development  of  the  Theistic  argument  i?t  a  logical  for jn. 
— Every  form  of  the  theistic  proof  which  is  now  employed  by 
writers  on  natural  theology  to  demonstrate  the  being  of  God 
was  apprehended,  and  logically  presented,  by  one  or  other  of 
the  ancient  philosophers,  excepting,  perhaps,  the  "  moral  argu- 
ment "  drawn  from  the  facts  of  conscience. 

(i.)  The  Etiological  proof  or  the  argument  based  upon 
the  principle  of  causality,  which  may  be  presented  in  the  fol- 
lowing form : 

All  genesis  or  becoming  supposes  a  permanent  and  un- 
caused Being,  adequate  to  the  production  of  all  phenomena. 
The  sensible  universe  is  a  perpetual  genesis,  a  succession 
of  appearances :  it  is  "  always  becoming,  and  never  really  is." 
Therefore,  it  must  have  its  cause  and  origin  in  a  perma- 
nent and  unoriginated  Being,  adequate  to  its  production. 
*  "  Metaphysics,"  bk.  xi.  ch.  viii.  §  19. 


488  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

The  major  premise  of  this  syllogism  is  a  fundamental  prin- 
ciple of  reason  —  a  self-evident  truth,  an  axiom  of  common 
sense,  and  as  such  has  been  recognized  from  the  very  dawn  of 
philosophy.  ^Ahvvarov  yheffdai  n  it:  nr^devog  7rpoVTra.p-)(oyTO£ — £x 
nihilo  nihil — Nothing  which  once  was  not,  could  ever  of  itself  come 
into  being.  Nothing  can  be  made  or  produced  without  an  effi- 
cient cause,  is  the  oldest  maxim  of  philosophy.  It  is  true  that 
this  maxim  was  abusively  employed  by  Democritus  and  Epi- 
curus to  disprove  a  Divine  creation  of  any  thing  out  of  noth- 
ing, yet  the  great  body  of  ancient  philosophers,  as  Pythago- 
ras, Xenophanes,  Parmenides,  Zeno,  Anaxagoras,  Empedocles, 
Plato,  and  Aristotle,  regarded  it  as  the  announcement  of  an 
universal  conviction,  that  nothing  can  be  produced  without  an 
efficient  cause  ; — order  can  not  be  generated  out  of  chaos,  life 
out  of  dead  matter,  consciousness  out  of  unconsciousness,  rea- 
son out  of  unreason.  A  first  principle  of  life,  of  order,  of  rea- 
son, must  have  existed  anterior  to  all  manifestions  of  order,  of 
life,  of  intelligence,  in  the  visible  universe.  It  was  clearly  in 
this  sense  that  Cicero  understood  this  great  maxim  of  the  an- 
cient philosophers  of  Greece.  With  him  "Z>^  nihilo  nihil  fit ''^ 
is  equivalent  to  '■^ Nihil  sine  causa  " — nothing  exists  without  a 
cause.  This  is  unquestionably  the  form  in  which  that  funda- 
mental law  of  thought  is  stated  by  Plato  :  "  Whatever  is  gener- 
ated is  necessarily  generated  from  a  certain  cause,  for  it  is 
wholly  impossible  that  any  thing  should  be  generated  without 
a  cause."^  And  the  efficient  cause  is  defined  as  "  a  power 
whereby  that  which  did  not  previously  exist  was  afterwards 
made  to  be."^  It  is  scarcely  needful  to  remark  that  Aristotle, 
the  scholar  of  Plato,  frequently  lays  it  down  as  a  postulate  of 
reason,  "that  we  admit  nothing  without  a  cause."'  By  an  irre- 
sistible law  of  thought,  ^''  all  phenomena  present  the^nselves  to  us 
as  the  expressioft  of  power,  and  refer  us  to  a  causal  ground 
whence  they  issue." 

The  major  premise  of  this  syllogism  is  a  fact  of  observation. 

'  "  Timaeus,"  ch.  ix.;  also  "  Philebus,"  §  45.  ^  "  Sophist,"  §  109. 

'  "  Post  Analytic,"  bk.  ii.  ch.  xvi.;  "Metaphysics," bk.  i.  ch.  i.  §  3. 


QBEEK  PHILOSOPHY.  489 

To  the  eye  of  sense  and  sensible  observation,  to  scientific  in- 
duction even  in  its  highest  generalizations,  the  visible  universe 
presents  nothing  but  a  history  and  aggregation  of  phenomena 
— a  succession  of  appearances  or  effects  having  more  or  less 
resemblance.  It  is  a  ceaseless  flow  and  change,  "  a  generation 
and  corruption,"  "  a  becoming,  but  never  really  />/"  it  is  never 
in  two  successive  moments  the  same}  All  our  cognitions  of 
sameness,  uniformity,  causal  connection,  permanent  Being,  real 
Power,  are  purely  rational  conceptions  given  in  thought,  sup- 
plied by  the  spontaneous  intuition  of  reason  as  the  correlative 
prefix  to  the  phenomena  observed.'* 

Therefore  the  ancient  philosophers  concluded  justly,  there 
must  be  something  ayewrjTov — something  which  was  never 
generated,  something  avTO([>vi]Q  and  avdv-n-oararov — self-origina- 
ted and  self-existing,  something  tuvtop  and  alojvtoy — imnmta- 
ble  and  eternal,  the  object  of  rational  apperception — which  is 
the  real  ground  and  efficient  cause  of  all  that  appears. 
■  (2.)  The  CosMOLOGiCAL  proof,  or  the  argument  based  upon 
the  principle  of  order,  and  thus  presented : 

Order,  proportion,  harmony,  are  the  product  and  expres- 
sion of  Mind. 

The  created  universe  reveals  order,  proportion,  and  har- 
mony. 

Therefore,  the  created  universe  is  the  product  of  Mind. 
The  fundamental  law  of  thought  which  underlies  this  mode 
of  proof  was  clearly  recognized  by  Pythagoras.  All  harmony 
and  proportion  and  symmetry  is  the  result  of  unity  evolving 
itself  in  and  pervading  multiplicity.  Mind  or  reason  is  unity 
and  indivisibihty ;  matter  is  diverse  and  multiple.  Mind  is 
the  determinating  principle ;  matter  is  indeterminate  and  in- 
definite. Confused  matter  receives  form,  and  proportion,  and 
order,  and  symmetry,  by  the  action  and  interpenetration  of  the 
spiritual  and  indivisible  element.  In  presence  of  facts  of  or- 
der, the  human  reason  instinctively  and  necessarily  affirms  the 
presence  and  action  of  Mind. 

*  "  Timasus,"  ch.  ix.  "  Ibid. 


490  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

"  Pythagoras  had  long  devoted  his  intellectual  adoration  to 
the  lofty  idea  of  Order.  To  his  mind  it  seemed  as  the  presid- 
ing genius  of  the  serene  and  silent  world.  He  had  from"  his 
youth  dwelt  with  delight  upon  the  eternal  relations  of  space 
and  number,  in  which  the  very  idea  of  proportion  seems  to  find 
its  first  and  immediate  development,  until  at  length  it  seemed 
as  if  the  whole  secret  of  the  universe  was  hidden  in  these  mys- 
terious correspondences.  The  world,  in  all  its  departments, 
moral  and  material,  is  a  living  arithmetic  in  its  development, 
a  realized  geometry  in  its  repose ;  it  is  a  *  cosmos '  (for  the 
word  is  Pythagorean),  the  expression  of  harmony,  the  manifes- 
tation to  sense  of  everlasting  order ;  and  the  science  of  7zum- 
bers  is  the  truest  representation  of  its  eternal  laws."  There- 
fore, argued  Pythagoras  and  the  Pythagoreans,  as  the  reason 
of  man  can  perceive  the  relations  of  an  eternal  order  in  the 
proportions  of  extension  and  number,  the  laws  of  proportion, 
and  symmetry,  and  harmony  must  inhere  in  a  Divine  reason, 
an  intelligent  soul,  which  moves  and  animates  the  universe. 
The  harmonies  of  the  world  which  address  themselves  to  the 
human  mind  must  be  the  product  of  a  Divine  mind.  The 
world,  in  its  real  structure,  must  be  the  image  and  copy  of  that 
divine  proportion  which  the  mind  of  man  adores.  It  is  the 
sensible  type  of  the  Divinity,  the  outward  and  multiple  devel- 
opment of  the  Eternal  Unity,  the  Eternal  One — that  is,  God. 

The  same  argument  is  elaborated  by  Plato  in  his  philosophy 
of  beauty.  God  is  with  him  the  last  reason,  the  ultimate  foun- 
dation, the  perfect  ideal  of  all  beauty — of  all  the  order,  propor- 
tion, harmony,  sublimity,  and  excellence  which  reigns  in  the 
physical,  the  intellectual,  and  the  moral  world.  He  is  the 
"Eternal  Beauty,  unbegotten  and  imperishable,  exempt  from 
all  decay  as  well  as  increase — the  perfect — the  Divine  Beauty '" 
which  is  beheld  by  the  pure  mind  in  the  celestial  world. 

(3.)  The  Teleological  proof,  or  the  argument  based  upon 
the  principle  of  intentionality  or  Final  Cause,  and  is  presented 
in  the  following  form  : 

'  «'  Ba^iquet,"  §  35. 


GREEK  PHILOSOniY.  491 

The  choice  and  adaptation  of  means  to  .the  accomplish- 
ment of  special  ends  supposes  an  intelligent  purpose,  a  De- 
signing Mind. 

In  the  universe  we  see  such  choice  and  adaptation  of 
means  to  ends. 

Therefore,  the  universe  is  the  product  of  an  intelligent, 
personal  Cause. 

This  is  peculiarly  the  Socratic  proof  He  recognized  the 
necessity  and  the  irresistibility  of  the  conviction  that  the  choice 
and  adaptation  of  means  to  ends  is  the  effect  of  Purpose,  the 
expression  of  Will.^  There  is  an  obviousness  and  a  directness 
in  this  mode  of  argument  which  is  felt  by  every  human  mind. 
In  the  "  Memorabilia"  Xenophon  has  preserved  a  conversation 
of  Socrates  with  Aristodemus  in  which  he  develops  this  proof 
at  great  length.  In  reading  the  dialogue''  in  which  Socrates 
instances  the  adaptation  of  our  organization  to  the  external 
world,  and  the  examples  of  design  in  the  human  frame,  we 
are  forcibly  reminded  of  the  chapters  of  Paley,  Whewell,  and 
M'Cosh.  Well  might  Aristodemus  exclaim :  "  The  more  I 
consider  it,  the  more  it  is  evident  to  me  that  man  must  be  the 
masterpiece  of  some  great  Artificer,  carrying  along  with  it  infi- 
nite marks  of  the  love  and  favor  of  Him  who  has  thus  formed 
it."  The  argument  from  Final  Causes  is  pursued  by  Plato  in 
the  "  Timasus ;"  and  in  Aristotle,  God  is  the  Final  Cause  of  all 
things.^ 

(4.)  The  Ontological  or  Ideological  proof,  or  the  argu- 
ment grounded  on  necessary  and  absolute  ideas,  which  may  be 
thrown  into  the  following  syllogism : 

Every  attribute  or  quality  implies  a  subject,  and  absolute 
modes  necessarily  suppose  an  Absolute  Being. 

*  "Canst  thou  doubt,  Aristodemus,  whether  a  disposition  of  parts  like 
this  (in  the  human  body)  should  be  the  work  of  chance,  or  of  wisdom  and 
contrivance  ?" — "  Memorabilia,"  bk.  i.  ch.  iv. 

^  "  Memorabilia,"  bk.  i.  ch.  iv. 

'  Aristotle  clearly  recognizes  that  an  end  or  final  cause  implies  Intelli- 
gence. "  The  appearance  of  ends  and  means  is  a.proof  of  Design." — "  Nat. 
Ausc,"  bk.  ii.  ch.  viii. 


492  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

Necessary  .and  absolute  truths  or  ideas  are  revealed  in 

human  reason  as  absolute  modes. 

Therefore   universal,  necessary,  and   absolute  ideas  are 

modes  of  the  absolute  subject — that  is,  God,  the  foundation 

and  source  of  all  truth. 

This  is  the  Platonic  proof.  Plato  recognized  the  principle 
of  substance  {ohma — viroKeifiepoy),  and  therefore  he  proceeds  in 
the  "  Timaeus  "  to  inquire  for  the  real  ground  of  all  existence  ; 
and  in  the  "RepubUc,"  for  the  real  ground  of  all  truth  and 
certitude. 

The  universe  consists  of  two  parts,  permanent  existences 
and  transient  phenomena — being  and  genesis;  the  one  eter- 
nally constant,  the  other  mutable  and  subject  to  change;  the 
former  apprehended  by  the  reason,  the  latter  perceived  by 
sense.  For  each  of  these  there  must  be  a  principle,  subject,  or 
substratum — a  principle  or  subject-matter,  which  is  the  ground 
or  condition  of  the  sensible  world,  and  a  principle  or  substance, 
which  is  the  ground  and  reason  of  the  intelligible  world  or 
world  of  ideas.  The  subject-matter,  or  ground  of  the  sensible 
world,  is  "the  receptacle"  and  "nurse"  of  forms,  an  "invisible 
species  and  formless  receiver  (which  is  not  earth,  or  air,  or  fire, 
or  water)  which  receives  the  immanence  of  the  intelligible."^ 
The  subject  or  ground  of  the  intelligible  world  is  that  in  which 
ideal  forms,  or  eternal  archetypes  inhere,  and  which  impresses 
form  upon  the  transitional  element,  and  fashions  the  world 
after  its  own  eternal  models.  This  eternal  and  immutable  sub- 
stance is  God,  who  created  the  universe  as  a  copy  of  the  eter- 
nal archetypes — the  everlasting  thoughts  which  dwell  in  his 
infinite  mind. 

These  copies  of  the  eternal  archetypes  or  models  are  per- 
ceived by  the  reason  of  man  in  virtue  of  its  participation  in  the 
Ultimate  Reason.  The  reason  of  man  is  the  organ  of  truth ; 
by  an  innate  and  inalienable  right,  it  grasps  unseen  and  eter- 
nal realities.  The  essence  of  the  soul  is  akin  to  that  which  is 
real,  permanent,  and  eternal ; — "//  is  the  offspring  and  image  of 
*  "  Timaeus,"  ch.  xxiv. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  493 

God;"  therefore  it  has  a  true  communion  with  the  realities  of 
things,  by  virtue  of  this  kindred  and  homogeneous  nature.  It 
can,  therefore,  ascend  from  the  universal  and  necessary  ideas, 
which  are  apprehended  by  the  reason,  to  the  absolute  and 
supreme  Idea,  which  is  the  attribute  and  perfection  of  God. 
When  the  human  mind  has  contemplated  any  object  of  beauty, 
any  fact  of  order,  proportion,  harmony,  and  excellency,  it  may 
rise  to  the  notion  of  a  quality  common  to  all  objects  of  beauty 
— "from  a  single  beautiful  body  to  two,  from  two  to  all  others; 
from  beautiful  bodies  to  beautiful  sentiments,  from  beautiful 
sentiments  to  beautiful  thoughts,  until,  from  thought  to  thought, 
we  arrive  at  the  highest  thought,  which  has  no  other  object 
than  the  perfect,  absolute,  Divine  Beauty."^  When  a  man  has, 
from  the  contemplation  of  instances  of  virtue,  risen  to  the  no- 
tion of  a  quality  common  to  all  these  instances,  this  quality 
becomes  the  representative  of  an  ineffable  something  which, 
in  the  sphere  of  immutable  reality,  answers  to  the  conception 
in  his  soul.  "At  the  extreme  limits  of  the  intellectual  world 
is  the  Idea  of  the  Good^  which  is  perceived  with  difficulty,  but, 
in  fine,  can  not  be  perceived  without  concluding  that  it  is  the 
source  of  all  that  is  beautiful  and  good ;  that  in  the  visible 
world  it  produces  light,  and  the  star  whence  light  directly 
comes ;  that  in  the  invisible  world  it  directly  produces  truth 
and  intelligence.'"*     This  absolute  Good  is  God. 

The  order  in  which  these  several  methods  of  proof  were 
developed,  will  at  once  present  itself  to  the  mind  of  the  reader 
as  the  natural  order  of  thought.  The  first  and  most  obvious 
aspect  which  nature  presents  to  the  opening  mind  is  that  of 
movement  and  change — a  succession  of  phenomena  suggesting 
the  idea  oi  power.  Secondly,  a  closer  attention  reveals  a  re- 
semblance of  phenomena  among  themselves,  a  uniformity  of 
nature — an  order,  proportion,  and  harmony  pervading  the  cos- 
mos, which  suggest  an  identity  and  unity  of  power  and  of  reason, 
pervading  and  controlling  all  things.  Thirdly,  a  still  closer 
inspection  of  nature  reveals  a  wonderful  adaptation  of  means 
*  "  Banquet,"  §  34.  "^  "  Republic,"  bk.  vii.  ch.  iii. 


494  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

to  the  fulfillment  of  special  ends,  of  organs  designed  to  fulfill 
specific  functions,  suggesting  the  idea  of  purpose,  contrivance, 
and  choice,  and  indicating  that  the  power  which  moves  and 
determines  the  universe  is  a  personal,  thinking,  and  volu?itary 
agent.  And  fourthly,  a  profounder  study  of  the  nature  of 
thought,  an  analysis  of  personal  consciousness,  reveals  that 
there  are  necessary  principles,  ideas,  and  laws,  which  univer- 
sally govern  and  determine  thought  to  definite  and  immovable 
conceptions  —  as,  for  example,  the  principles  of  causality,  of 
substance,  of  identity  or  unity,  of  order,  of  intentionality ;  and 
that  it  is  only  under  these  laws  that  we  can  conceive  the  uni- 
verse. By  the  law  of  substance  we  are  compelled  to  regard 
these  ideas,  which  are  not  only  laws  of  thought  but  also  of 
things,  as  inherent  in  a  subject,  or  Being,  who  made  all  things, 
and  whose  ideas  are  reflected  in  the  reason  of  man.  Thus 
from  universal  and  necessary  ideas  we  rise  to  the  absolute  Idea, 
from  immutable  principles  to  a  First  Principle  of  all  principles, 
a  First  Thought  of  all  thoughts — that  is,  to  God.  This  is  the 
history  of  the  development  of  thought  in  the  individual,  and  in 
the  race — cause,  order,  design,  idea,  being,  God. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPUJ,  495 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  PROPEDEUTIC  OFFICE  OF  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY  {continued). 

"  If  we  regard  this  sublime  philosophy  as  a  preparation  for  Christianity 
instead  of  seeking  in  it  a  substitute  for  the  Gospel,  we  shall  not  need  to 
overstate  its  grandeur  in  order  to  estimate  its  real  value." — Pressense. 

"  Plato  made  me  to  know  the  true  God.  Jesus  Christ  showed  me  the 
way  to  Him." — St.  Augustine. 

THE  preparatory  office  of  Grecian  philosophy  is  also  seen 
in  the  department  of  morals. 

I.  In  the  awakening  and  enthronement  of  Conscience  as  a  law 
of  duty  ^  and  the  elevation  and  purification  of  the  Moral  Idea. 

The  same  law  of  evolution,  which  we  have  seen  governing 
the  history  of  speculative  thought,  may  also  be  traced  as  deter- 
mining the  progress  of  ethical  inquiry.  In  this  department 
there  are  successive  stages  marked,  both  in  the  individual  and 
the  national  mind.  There  is,  first,  the  simplicity  and  trust  of 
childhood,  submitting  with  unquestioning  faith  to  prescribed 
and  arbitrary  laws  ;  then  the  unsettled  and  ill-directed  forc^ 
of  youth,  questioning  the  authority  of  laws,  and  asking  reasons 
why  this  or  that  is  obligatory ;  then  the  philosophic  wisdom  of 
riper  years,  recognizing  an  inherent  law  of  duty,  which  has  an 
absolute  rightness  and  an  imperative  obligation.  There  is 
first  a  dim  and  shadowy  apprehension  of  some  lines  of  moral 
distinction,  and  some  consciousness  of  obligation,  but  these 
rest  mainly  upon  an  outward  law — the  observed  practice  of 
others,  or  the  command  of  the  parent  as,  in  some  sense,  the 
command  of  God.  Then,  to  attain  to  personal  convictions, 
man  passes  through  a  stage  of  doubt ;  he  asks  for  a  ground  of 
obligation,  for  an  authority  that  shall  approve  itself  to  his  own 
judgment  and  reason.  At  last  he  arrives  at  some  ultimate 
principles  of  right,  some  immutable  standard  of  duty ;  he  rec- 


I 


496  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

ognizes  an  inward  law  of  conscience,  and  it  becomes  to  him  as 
the  voice  of  God.  He  extends  his  analysis  to  history,  and  he 
finds  that  the  universal  conscience  of  the  race  has,  in  all  ages, 
uttered  the  same  behest.  Should  he  live  in  Christian  times, 
he  discovers  a  wondrous  harmony  between  the  voice  of  God 
within  the  heart,  and  the  voice  of  God  within  the  pages  of  in- 
spiration. And  now  the  convention  of  public  opinion,  and  the 
laws  of  the  state,  are  revered  and  upheld  by  him,  just  so  far  as 
they  bear  the  imprimatur  of  reason  and  of  conscience — that  is, 
of  God. 

This  history  of  the  normal  development  of  the  individual 
mind  has  its  counterpart  in  the  history  of  humanity.  There  is 
(i.)  The  age  of  popular  and  unconscious  morality  ;  (2.)  The  tran- 
sitional^ skeptical^  or  sophistical  age  ;  and  (3.)  77ie  philosophic  or 
conscious  age  of  morality.^  In  the  "  Republic "  of  Plato,  we 
have  these  three  eras  represented  by  different  persons,  through 
the  course  of  the  dialogue.  The  question  is  started — "  what  is 
Justice  ?  and  an  answer  is  given  from  the  stand-point  of  popu- 
lar morality,  by  Polemarchus,  who  quotes  the  words  of  the  poet 

Simonides, 

"To  give  to  each  his  due  is  just;"" 

that  is,  justice  is  paying  your  debts.  This  doctrine  being 
proved  inadequate,  an  answer  is  given  from  the  Sophistical 
point  of  view  by  Thrasymachus,  who  defines  justice  as  "  the 
advantage  of  the  strongest " — that  is,  might  is  right,  and  right  is 
might.  ^  This  answer  being  sharply  refuted,  the  way  is  opened 
for  a  more  philosophic  account,  w^hich  is  gradually  evolved  in 
book  iv.,  Glaucon  and  Adimantus  personifying  the  practical 
understanding,  which  is  gradually  brought  into  harmony  with 
philosophy,  and  Socrates  the  higher  reason,  as  the  purely  phil- 
osophic conception.  Justice  is  found  to  be  the  right  proportion 
and  harmonious  development  of  all  the  elements  of  the  soul, 
and  the  equal  balance  of  all  the  interests  of  society,  so  as  to 
secure  a  well-regulated  and  harmonious  whole. 

^  Grant's  "Aristotle's  Ethics,"  vol.  i.  p.  46. 

""  "  Republic,"  bk.  i.  §  6.  =>  Ibid.,  bk.  i.  §  12. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 


497 


The  era  of  popular  and  uticonscioiis  morality  is  represented 
by  the  times  of  Homer,  Hesiod,  the  Gnomic  poets,  and  "  the 
Seven  Wise  Men  of  Greece." 

This  was  an  age  of  instinctive  action,  rather  than  reflection 
— of  poetry  and  feeling,  rather  than  analytic  thought.  The 
rules  of  life  were  presented  in  maxims  and  proverbs,  which  do 
not  rise  above  prudential  counsels  or  empirical  deductions. 
Morality  was  immediately  associated  with  the  religion  of  the 
state,  and  the  will  of  the  gods  was  the  highest  law  for  men. 
"Homer  and  Hesiod,  and  the  Gnomic  poets,  constituted  the 
educational  course,"  to  which  may  be  added  the  saws  and 
aphorisms  of  the  Seven  Wise  Men,  and  we  have  before  us  the 
main  sources  of  Greek  views  of  duty.  When  the  question  was 
asked — "  What  is  right  ?"  the  answer  was  given  by  a  quotation 
from  Homer,  Hesiod,  Simonides,  and  the  like.  The  morality 
of  Homer  "  is  concrete,  not  abstract ;  it  expresses  the  concep- 
tion of  a  heroic  life,  rather  than  a  philosophic  theory.  It  is 
mixed  up  with  a  religion  which  really  consists  in  a  celebration 
of  the  beauty  of  nature,  and  in  a  deification  of  the  strong  and 
brilliant  qualities  of  human  nature.  It  is  a  morality  uninflu- 
enced by  a  regard  for  a  future  life.  It  clings  with  intense 
enjoyment  and  love  to  the  present  world,  and  the  state  after 
death  looms  up  in  the  distance  as  a  cold  and  repugnant  shad- 
ow. And  yet  it  would  often  hold  death  preferable  to  disgrace. 
The  distinction  between  a  noble  and  ignoble  life  is  strongly 
marked  in  Homer,  and  yet  a  sense  of  right  and  wrong  about 
particular  actions  seems  fluctuating"  and  confused.^  A  sen- 
suous conception  of  happiness  is  the  chief  good,  and  mere 
temporal  advantage  the  principal  reward  of  virtue.  We  hear 
nothing  of  the  approving  smile  of  conscience,  of  inward  self- 
satisfaction,  and  peace,  and  harmony,  resulting  from  the  prac- 
tice of  virtue.  Justice,  energy,  temperance,  chastity,  are  en- 
joined, because  they  secure  temporal  good.  And  yet,  with  all 
this  imperfection,  the  poets  present  "  a  remarkable  picture  of 
primitive  simplicity,  chastity,  justice,  and  practical  piety,  under 
^  Grant's  "Aristotle's  Ethics,"  vol.  i.  p.  51. 
32 


498  CHBISTIAXITT  AND 

the  three-fold  influence  of  right  moral  feeling,  mutual  respect, 
and  fear  of  the  divine  displeasure."^ 

The  transitional,  skeptical,  or  sophistical  era  begins  with  Pro- 
tagoras. Poetry  and  proverbs  had  ceased  to  satisfy  the  reason 
of  man.  The  awakening  intellect  had  begun  to  call  in  ques- 
tion the  old  maxims  and  "wise  saws,"  to  dispute  the  arbitrary 
authority  of  the  poets,  and  even  to  arraign  the  institutions  of 
society.  It  had  already  begun  to  seek  for  some  reasonable 
foundation  of  authority  for  the  opinions,  customs,  laws,  and  in- 
stitutions which  had  descended  to  them  from  the  past,  and  to 
ask  why  men  were  obliged  to  do  this  or  that?  The  question 
whether  there  is  at  bottom  any  real  difference  between  truth 
and  error,  right  and  wrong,  was  now  fairly  before  the  human 
mind.  The  ultimate  standard  of  all  truth  and  all  right  was 
now  the  grand  object  of  pursuit.  These  inquiries  were  not, 
however,  conducted  by  the  Sophists  with  the  best  motives. 
They  were  not  always  prompted  by  an  earnest  desire  to  know 
the  truth,  and  an  earnest  purpose  to  embrace  and  do  the  right. 
They  talked  and  argued  for  mere  effect — to  display  their  dia- 
lectic subtilty,  or  their  rhetorical  power.  They  taught  virtue 
for  mere  emolument  and  pay.  They  delighted,  as  Cicero  tells 
us,  to  plead  the  opposite  sides  of  a  cause  with  equal  effect. 
And  they  found  exquisite  pleasure  in  raising  difficulties,  main- 
taining paradoxes,  and  passing  off  mere  tricks  of  oratory  for 
solid  proofs.  This  is  the  uniform  representation  of  the  sophis- 
tical spirit  which  is  given  by  all  the  best  writers  who  lived 
nearest  to  their  times,  and  who  are,  therefore,  to  be  presumed 
to  have  known  them  best.  Grote'^  has  made  an  elaborate  de- 
fense of  the  Sophists  ;  he  charges  Plato  with  gross  misrepresen- 
tation. His  portraits  of  them  are  denounced  as  mere  carica- 
tures, prompted  by  a  spirit  of  antagonism  ;  all  antiquity  is  pre- 
sumed to  have  been  misled  by  him.  No  one,  however,  can 
read  Grant's  "  Essay  on  the  History  of  Moral  Philosophy  in 
Greece  "^  without  feeling  that  his  vindication  of  Plato  is  com- 

*  Tyler,  "  Theology  of  the  Greek  Poets,"  p.  167. 

"  «  History  of  Greece."  ^  Aristotle's  "  Ethics,"  vol.  i.  ch.  ii. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  499 

plete  and  unanswerable  :  "  Plato  never  represents  the  Sophists 
as  teaching  a  lax  morality  to  their  disciples.  He  does  not 
make  sophistry  to  consist  in  holding  wicked  opinions ;  he  rep- 
resents them  as  only  too  orthodox  in  general/  but  capable  of 
giving  utterance  to  immoral  paradoxes  for  the  sake  of  vanity. 
Sophistry  rather  tampers  and  trifles  with  the  moral  convictions 
than  directly  attacks  them."  The  Sophists  were  wanting  in 
deep  conviction,  in  moral  earnestness,  in  sincere  love  of  truth, 
in  reverence  for  goodness  and  purity,  and  therefore  their  tri- 
fling, insincere,  and  paradoxical  teaching  was  unfavorable  to 
goodness  of  life.  The  tendency  of  their  method  is  forcibly  de- 
picted in  the  words  of  Plato :  "  There  are  certain  dogmas  re- 
lating to  what  is  Just  and  good  in  which  we  have  been  brought 
up  from  childhood — obeying  and  reverencing  them.  Other 
opinions  recommending  pleasure  and  license  we  resist,  out  of 
respect  for  the  old  hereditary  maxims.  Well,  then,  a  question 
comes  up  concerning  what  is  right  "i  He  gives  some  answer 
such  as  he  has  been  taught,  and  straightway  is  refuted.  He 
tries  again,  and  is  again  refuted.  And,' when  this  has  hap- 
pened pretty  often,  he  is  reduced  to  the  opinion  that  nothmg  is 
either  right  or  wrong ;  and  in  the  same  way  it  happens  about 
the  just  and  the  good,  and  all  that  before  we  have  held  in 
reverence.  On  this,  he  naturally  abandons  his  allegiance  to 
the  old  principles  and  takes  up  with  those  he  before  resisted, 
and  so,  from  being  a  good  citizen,  he  becomes  lawless.'"'  And, 
in  point  of  fact,  this  was  the  theoretical  landing-place  of  the 
Sophists.  We  do  not  say  they  became  practically  "  lawless " 
and  antinomian,  but  they  did  arrive  at  the  settled  opinion  that 
right  and  wrong,  truth  and  error,  are  solely  matter  of  private 
opinion  and  conventional  usage.  Man's  own  fluctuating  opin- 
ion is  the  measure  and  standard  of  all  things.'  They  who 
"  make  the  laws,  make  them  for  their  own  advantage."*     There 

*  "  His  teachings  will  be  good  counsels  about  a  man's  own  affairs,  how 
best  to  govern  his  family ;  and  also  about  the  affairs  of  the  state,  how  most 
ably  to  administer  and  speak  of  state  affairs." — "  Protag.,"  §  26. 

^  "  Republic,"  bk.  vii.  ch.  xvii.  ^  "  Theaetetus,"  §  23. 

*«Gorgias,"§§  85-89. 


500  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

is  no  such  thing  as  Eternal  Right.  "  That  which  appears  just 
and  honorable  to  each  city  is  so  for  that  city,  as  long  as  the 
opinion  prevails.'" 

The  age  of  the  Sophists  was  a  transitional  period — a  neces- 
sary, though,  in  itself  considered,  an  unhappy  stage  in  the  prog- 
ress of  the  human  mind  ;  but  it  opened  the  way  for, 

The  Socratic,  philosophic,  or  conscious  age  of  7?iorals.  It  has 
been  said  that  "before  Socrates  there  was  no  morality  in 
Greece,  but  only  propriety  of  conduct."  If  by  this  is  meant 
that  prior  to  Socrates  men  simply  followed  the  maxims  of 
"  the  Theologians,"'  and  obeyed  the  laws  of  the  state,  without 
reflection  and  inquiry  as  to  the  intrinsic  character  of  the  acts, 
and  without  any  analysis  and  exact  definition,  so  as  to  attain 
to  principles  of  ultimate  and  absolute  right,  it  must  be  accepted 
as  true — there  was  no  philosophy  of  morals.  Socrates  is  there- 
fore justly  regarded  as  "  the  father  of  moral  philosophy."  Aris- 
totle says  that  he  confined  himself  chiefly  to  ethical  inquiries. 
He  sought  a  determinate  conception  and  an  exact  definition  of 
virtue.  As  Xenophon  has  said  of  him,  "  he  never  ceased  ask- 
ing, What  is  piety?  what  is  impiety?  what  is  noble?  what  is 
base  ?  what  is  just?  what  is  unjust  ?  what  is  temperance  ?  what 
is  madness?"^  And  these  questions  were  not  asked  in  the 
Sophistic  spirit,  as  a  dialectic  exercise,  or  from  idle  curiosity. 
He  was  a  perfect  contrast  to  the  Sophists.  They  had  slighted 
Truth,  he  made  her  the  mistress  of  his  soul.  They  had  turned 
away  from  her,  he  longed  for  more  perfect  communion  with 
her.  They  had  deserted  her  for  money  and  renown,  he  was 
faithful  to  her  in  poverty.'*  He  wanted  to  know  what  piety 
was,  that  he  might  be  pious.  He  desired  to  know  what  jus- 
tice, temperance,  nobility,  courage  were,  that  he  might  cultivate 
and  practise  them.  He  wrote  no  books,  delivered  no  lectures  ; 
he  instituted  no  school ;  he  simply  conversed  in  the  shop,  the 
market-place,  the  banquet-hall,  and  the  prison.     This  philoso- 

'  "  Theaetetus,"  §§  65-75.  ^  Homer,  Hesiod,  etc 

^  "  Memorabilia,"  bk.  i.  ch.  i.  p.  16. 

*  Lewes's  "Biographical  History  of  Philosophy,"  p.  122. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  501 

phy  was  not  so  much  a  doctrine  as  a  life.  "  What  is  remarkable 
in  him  is  not  the  system  but  the  man.  The  memory  he  left  be- 
hind him  amongst  his  disciples,  though  idealized — the  affec- 
tion, blended  with  reverence,  which  they  never  ceased  to  feel 
for  his  person,  bear  testimony  to  the  elevation  of  his  character 
and  his  moral  purity.  We  recognize  in  him  a  Greek  of  Athens 
— one  who  had  imbibed  many  dangerous  errors,  and  on  whom 
the  yoke  of  pagan  custom  still  weighed ;  but  his  life  was  never- 
theless a  noble  life ;  and  it  is  to  calumny  we  must  have  re- 
course if  we  are  to  tarnish  its  beauty  by  odious  insinuations,  as 
Lucian  did,  and  as  has  been  too  frequently  done,  after  him,  by 
unskillful  defenders  of  Christianity,^  who  imagine  it  is  the 
gainer  by  all  that  degrades  human  nature.  Born  in  a  hum- 
ble position,  destitute  of  all  the  temporal  advantages  which  the 
Greeks  so  passionately  loved,  Socrates  exerted  a  kingship  over 
minds.  His  dominion  was  the  more  real  for  being  less  appar- 
ent. .  . .  His  power  consisted  of  three  things :  his  devoted 
affection  for  his  disciples,  his  disinterested  love  of  truth,  and 
the  perfect  harmony  of  his  life  and  doctrine. ...  If  he  recom- 
mended temperance  and  sobriety,  he  also  set  the  example; 
poorly  clad,  satisfied  with  little,  he  disdained  all  the  delicacies 
of  life.  He  possessed  every  species  of  courage.  On  the  field 
of  battle  he  was  intrepid,  and  still  more  intrepid  when  he  re- 
sisted the  caprices  of  the  multitude  who  demanded  of  him, 
when  he  was  a  senator,  to  commit  the  injustice  of  summoning 
ten  generals  before  the  tribunals.  He  also  infringed  the  in- 
iquitous orders  of  the  thirty  tyrants  of  Athens.  The  satires  of 
Aristophanes  neither  moved  nor  irritated  him.  The  same 
dauntless  firmness  he  displayed  when  brought  before  his 
judges,  charged  with  impiety.  *  If  it  is  your  wish  to  absolve 
me  on  condition  that  I  henceforth  be  silent,  I  reply  I  love  and 
honor  you,  but  I  ought  rather  to  obey  the  gods  than  you.  Nei- 
ther in  the  presence  of  judges  nor  of  the  enemy  is  it  permitted 
me,  or  any  other  man,  to  use  every  sort  of  means  to  escape 
death.  It  is  not  death  but  crime  that  it  is  difficult  to  avoid ; 
*  Watson's  "Institutes  of  Theology,"  vol.  i.  p.  374. 


I 


502  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

crime  moves  faster  than  death.  So  I,  old  and  heavy  as  I  am, 
have  allowed  myself  to  be  overtaken  by  death,  while  my  ac- 
cusers, light  and  vigorous,  have  allowed  themselves  to  be  over- 
taken by  the  light-footed  crime.  I  go,  then,  to  suffer  death ; 
they  to  suffer  shame  and  iniquity.  I  abide  by  my  punishment, 
as  they  by  theirs.  All  is  according  to  order.'  It  was  the  same 
fidelity  to  duty  that  made  Socrates  refuse  to  escape  from  prison, 
in  order  not  to  violate  the  laws  of  his  country,  to  which,  even 
though  irritated,  more  respect  is  due  than  to  a  father.  *  Let  us 
walk  in  the  path,'  he  says  '  that  God  has  traced  for  us.'  These 
last  words  show  the  profound  religious  sentiment  which  ani- 
mated Socrates. ...  It  is  impossible  not  to  feel  that  there  was 
something  divine  in  such  a  life  crowned  with  such  a  death."^ 

Socrates  laid  the  foundation  for  conscious  morality  by 
placing  the  ground  of  right  and  wrong  in  an  eternal  ^nd  un- 
changeable reason  which  illuminates  the  reason  and  conscience 
of  every  man.  He  often  asserted  that  morality  is  a  science 
which  can  not  be  taught.  It  depends  mainly  upon  principles 
which  are  discovered  by  an  inward  light.  Accordingly  he  re- 
garded it  as  the  main  business  of  education  to  "  draw  out "  into 
the  light  of  consciousness  the  principles  of  right  and  justice 
which  are  infolded  within  the  conscience  of  man — to  deliver 
the  mind  of  the  secret  truth  which  was  striving  towards  the 
light  of  day.  Therefore  he  called  his  method  the  "  maieutic  " 
or  "  obstetric  "  art.  He  felt  there  was  something  divine  in  all 
men  (answering  to  his  to  Zaiixovior  or  ^aifiovwy  n — a  divine 
and  supernatural  something — a  warning  "voice" — a  gnomic 
"  sign  " — a  "  law  of  God  written  on  the  heart  "),  which  by  a  sys- 
tem of  skillful  interrogations  he  sought  to  elicit,  so  that  each 
might  hear  for  himself  the  voice  of  God,  and,  hearing,  might 
obey.  Thus  was  he  the  "great  prophet  of  the  human  con- 
science," and  a  messenger  of  God  to  the  heathen  world,  to  pre- 
pare the  way  of  the  Lord. 

The  morality  of  conscience  w^as  carried  to  its  highest  point 
by  Plato.  From  the  moment  he  became  the  disciple  of  Soc- 
*  Pressense,  "  Religions  before  Christ,"  pp.  109-111. 


GTtEEK  PHILOSOPHY.  503 

rates  he  sympathized  deeply  with  the  spirit  and  the  method  of 
his  master.  He  had  the  same  deep  seriousness  of  spirit,  that 
same  earnestness  of  purpose,  that  same  inward  reverence  for 
justice,  and  purity,  and  goodness,  which  dwelt  in  the  heart  of 
Socrates.  A  naturally  noble  nature,  he  loved  truth  with  all 
the  glow  and  fervor  of  his  young  heart.  He  felt  that  if  any 
thing  gave  meaning  and  value  to  life,  it  must  be  the  contem- 
plation of  absolute  truth,  absolute  beauty,  and  absolute  Good. 
This  absolute  Good  is  God,  who  is  the  first  principle  of  all 
ideas,  the  fountain  of  all  the  order  and  proportion  and  beau- 
ty of  the  universe,  the  source  of  all  the  good  which  exists  in 
nature  and  in  man.  To  practise  goodness — to  conform  the 
character  to  the  eternal  models  of  order,  proportion,  and  ex- 
cellence, is  to  resemble  God.  To  aspire  after  perfection  of 
moral  being,  to  secure  assimilation  to  God  (vfxoiwcng  Be^)  is  the 
noble  aspiration  of  Plato's  soul. 

When  we  read  the  "Gorgias,"  the  "Philebus,"  and  especially 
the  "Republic,"  with  what  noble  joy  are  we  filled  on  hearing  the 
voice  of  conscience,  like  a  harp  swept  by  a  seraph's  hand,  utter- 
ing such  deep-toned  melodies  !  How  does  he  drown  the  clam- 
ors of  passion,  the  calculations  of  mere  expediency,  the  sophism 
of  mere  personal  interest  and  utility.  If  he  calls  us  to  witness 
the  triumph  of  the  wicked  in  the  first  part  of  the  "Republic,"  it 
is  in  order  that  we  may  at  the  end  of  the  book  see  the  de- 
ceitfulness  of  their  triumph.  "  As  to  the  wicked,"  he  says,  "  I 
maintain  that  even  if  they  succeed  at  first  in  concealing  what 
they  are,  most  of  them  betray  themselves  at  the  end  of  their 
career.  They  are  covered  with  opprobrium,  and  present  evils 
are  nothing  compared  with  those  that  awaU  them  in  the  other 
life.  As  to  the  just  man,  whether  in  sickness  or  in  poverty, 
these  imaginary  evils  will  turn  to  his  advantage  in  this  life,  a7id 
after  his  death;  because  the  providence  of  the  gods  is  neces- 
sarily attentive  to  the  interests  of  him  who  labors  to  become 
just,  and  to  attain,  by  the  practice  of  virtue,  to  the  most  per- 
fect resemblance  to  God  which  is  possible  to  man."*  He  rises 
*  ♦*  Republic,"  bk.  x.  ch.  xii. 


504  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

above  all  "  greatest  happiness  principles,"  and  asserts  distinct- 
ly in  the  "Gorgias"  that  it  is  better  to  suffer  wrong  than  to  do 
wrong. ^  "  I  maintain,"  says  he,"  "  that  what  is  most  shameful 
is  not  to  be  struck  unjustly  on  the  cheek,  or  to  be  wounded  in 
the  body;  but  that  to  strike  and  wound  me  unjustly,  to  rob 
me,  or  reduce  me  to  slavery — to  commit,  in  a  word,  any  kind 
of  injustice  towards  me,  or  what  is  mine — is  a  thing  far  worse 
and  more  odious  for  him  who  commits  the  injustice,  than  for 
me  who  suffer  it."^  It  is  a  great  combat,  he  says,  greater  than 
we  think,  that  wherein  the  issue  is  whether  we  shall  be  virtu- 
ous or  wicked.  Neither  glory,  nor  riches,  nor  dignities,  nor 
poetry,  deserves  that  we  should  neglect  justice  for  them.  The 
moral  idea  in  Plato  has  such  intense  truth  and  force,  that  it 
has  at  times  a  striking  analogy  with  the  language  of  the  Holy 
Scriptures.* 

The  obligation  of  moral  rectitude  is,  by  Plato,  derived  from 
the  authoritative  utterances  of  conscience  as  the  voice  of  God. 
We  must  do  right  because  reason  and  conscience  say  it  is  right. 
In  the  "  Euthyphron "  he  maintains  that  the  moral  quality  of 
actions  is  not  dependent  on  the  arbitrary  will  of  a  Supreme 
Governor  ; — "  an  act  is  not  holy  because  the  gods  love  it,  but 
the  gods  love  it  because  it  is  holy."  The  eternal  law  of  right 
dwells  in  the  Eternal  Reason  of  God,  the  idea  of  right  in  all 
human  minds  is  a  ray  of  that  Eternal  Reason  ;  and  the  require- 
ment of  the  divine  law  that  we  shall  do  right  is,  and  must  be, 
in  harmony  with  both. 

The  present  life  is  regarded  by  Plato  as  a  state  of  probation 
and  discipline,  the  future  life  as  one  of  reward  and  punishment.* 

Plato  was  thus  to  the  heathen  world  "the  great  apostle  of 
the  moral  idea;"  he  followed  up  and  completed  the  work  of 
Socrates.  "  The  voice  of  God,  that  still  found  a  profound  echo 
in  man's  heart,  possessed  in  him  an  organ  to  which  all  Greece 
gave  ear ;  and  the  austere  revelation  of  conscience  this  time 

»"Gorgias,"§§  59-80.  ^bid,  §  137. 

^  Pressense,  "  Religions  before  Christ,"  p.  129. 

*  "  Republic,"  bk.  x.  ch.  xv.,  xvi.;  "  Laws,"  bk.  x.  ch.  xiii. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  505 

embodied  in  language  too  harmonious  not  to  entice  by  the 
beauty  of  form,  a  nation  of  artists,  they  received  it.  The  tables 
of  the  eternal  law,  carved  in  purest  marble  and  marvellously 
sculptured,  were  read  by  them." 

In  Plato  both  the  theistic  conception  and  the  moral  idea 
seem  to  have  touched  the  zenith.  The  philosophy  of  Aristotle, 
considered  as  a  whole,  appears  on  one  side  to  have  passed  the 
line  of  the  great  Hellenic  period.  If  it  did  not  inaugurate,  it 
at  least  prepared  the  way  for  the  decline.  It  perfected  logic, 
as  the  instrument  of  ratiocination,  and  gave  it  exactness  and 
precision.  Yet  taken  all  in  all,  it  was  greatly  inferior  to  its 
predecessor.  From  the  moral  point  of  view  it  is  a  decided  re- 
trogression. The  god  of  Aristotle  is  indifferent  to  virtue.  He 
is  pure  thought  rather  than  moral  perfection.  He  takes  no 
cognizance  of  man.  Morality  has  no  eternal  basis,  no  divine 
type,  and  no  future  reward.  Therefore  Aristotle's  philosophy 
had  little  power  over  the  conscience  and  heart. 

During  the  grand  Platonic  period  human  reason  made  its 
Ipftiest  flight,  it  rose  aloft  and  soared  towards  heaven,  but  alas ! 
its  wings,  like  those  of  Icarus,  melted  in  the  sun  and  it  fell  t0 
earth  again.  Instead  of  wax  it  needed  the  strong  "  eagle  pin- 
ions of  faith "  which  revelation  only  can  supply.  The  deca- 
dence is  strongly  marked  both  in  the  Epicurean  and  Stoic 
schools.  They  both  express  the  feeling  of  exhaustion,  disap- 
pointment, and  despair.  The  popular  theology  had  lost  its 
hold  upon  the  public  mind.  The  gods  no  longer  visited  the 
earth.  "  The  mysterious  voice  which,  according  to  the  poetic 
legend  related  by  Plutarch,  was  heard  out  at  sea — '  Great  Pan 
is  dead ' — rose  up  from  every  heart ;  the  voice  of  an  incredu- 
lous age  proclaimed  the  coming  end  of  paganism.  The  oracles 
were  dumb."  There  was  no  vision  in  the  land.  All  faith  in  a 
beneficent  overruling  Providence  was  lost,  and  the  hope  of  im- 
mortality was  well-nigh  gone.  The  doctrines  of  a  resurrection 
and  a  judgment  to  come,  were  objects  of  derisive  mockery/ 
Philosophy  directed  her  attention  solely  to  the  problem  of  in- 
*  A'cts  xvii.  32. 


5o6  CHEISTIANITY  AND 

dividual  well-being  on  earth ;  it  became  simply  a  philosophy 
of  life,  and  not,  as  with  Plato,  "  a  preparation  for  death."  The 
grosser  minds  sought  refuge  in  the  doctrines  of  Epicurus. 
They  said,  "  Pleasure  is  the  chief  good,  the  end  of  life  is  to  en- 
joy yourself;"  to  this  end  "dismiss  the  fear  of  gods,  and,  above 
all,  the  fear  of  death,"  The  nobler  souls  found  an  asylum  with 
the  Stoics.  They  said,  "  Fata  nos  ducunt — The  Fates  lead  us ! 
Live  conformable  to  reason.  Endure  and  abstain !"  Not- 
withstanding numerous  and  serious  errors,  the  ethical  system 
of  the  Stoics  was  wonderfully  pure.  This  must  be  confessed 
by  any  one  who  reads  the  "  Enchiridion  "  of  Epictetus,  and  the 
"Meditations"  of  Aurelius.  "The  highest  end  of  life  is  to  con- 
template truth  and  to  obey  the  Eternal  Reason.  God  is  to  be 
reverenced  above  all  things,  and  universally  submitted  to.  The 
noblest  office  of  reason  is  to  subjugate  passion  and  conduct  to 
virtue.  Virtue  is  the  supreme  good,  which  is  to  be  pursued  for 
its  own  sake,  and  not  from  fear  or  hope.  That  is  sufficient  for 
happiness  which  is  seated  only  in  the  mind,  and  therefore  inde- 
pendent of  external  things.  The  consciousness  of  wiell-doing 
is  reward  enough  without  the  applause  of  others.  And  no  fear 
of  loss,  or  pain,  or  even  death,  must  be  suffered  to  turn  us  aside 
from  truth  and  virtue."^ 

The  preparatory  office  of  Christianity  in  the  field  of  ethics  is 
further  seen, 

II.  In  the  fact  that,  by  an  experiment  conducted  on  the  largest 
scale,  it  demonstrated  the  insufficiency  of  reason  to  elaborate  a  per- 
fect ideal  of  moral  excellence,  and  develop  the  moral  forces  necessary 
to  secure  its  realization. 

We  have  seen  that  the  moral  idea  in  Socrates,  Plato,  Epicte- 
tus, Marcus  Aurelius,  and  Seneca  rose  to  a  sublime  height,  and 
that,  under  its  influence,  they  developed  a  noble  and  heroic 
character.  At  the  same  time  it  must  be  conceded  that  their 
ethical  system  was  marked  by  signal  blemishes  and  radical  de- 
fects. After  all  its  excellence,  it  did  not  give  roundness,  com- 
pleteness, and  symmetry  to  moral  life.  The  elements  which 
^  Marcus  Aurelius. 


GREEK  PHIL  OS 

really  purify  and  ennoble  man,  and  leiJl^^j^^  jafiJChpa^sty  to 
life,  were  utterly  wanting.  Their  systemswT^:e3^fef^disci- 
pline  of  the  reason  than  a  culture  of  the  heart.  The  reason 
held  in  check  the  lower  passions  and  propensities  of  the  nature, 
but  it  did  not  evoke  the  softer,  gentler,  purer  emotions  of  the 
soul.  The  cardinal  virtues  of  the  ancient  ethical  systems  are 
Prudence,  Justice,  Temperance,  and  Courage,  all  which  are  in 
the  last  analysis  r^uced  to  Wisdom.  Humility,  Meekness, 
Forgiveness  of  injuries,  Love  of  even  enemies,  Universal  Be- 
nevolence, Real  Philanthropy,  the  graces  which  give  beauty  to 
character  and  bless  society,  are  scarcely  known.  It  is  true 
that  in  Epictetus  and  Seneca  we  have  some  counsels  to  hu- 
mility, to  forbearance,  and  forgiveness ;  but  it  must  be  borne  in 
mind  that  Christianity  was  now  in  the  air,  exerting  an  indirect 
influence  beyond  the  limits  of  the  labors  of  the  indefatigable 
missionaries  of  the  Cross.'  By  their  predecessors,  these  quali- 
ties were  disparaged  rather  than  upheld.  Resentment  of  in- 
juries was  applauded  as  a  virtue,  and  meekness  wab  proclaimed 
a  defect  and  a  weakness.  They  knew  nothing  of  a  forgiving 
spirit,  and  were  strangers  to  the  charity  "which  endureth  all 
things,  hopeth  all  things,  and  never  fails„"  The  enlarged  phi- 
lanthrophy  which  overleaps  the  bounds  of  kindred  and  nation- 
ality,  and  embraces  a  common  humanity  in  its  compassionate 
regards  and  benevolent  efforts,  was  unknownc  Socrates,  the 
noblest  of  all  the  Grecian's,  was  in  no  sense  cosmopolitan  in  his 
feeling.  His  whole  nature  and  character  wore  a  Greek  impress. 
He  could  scarce  be  tempted  to  go  beyond  the  gates  of  Athens, 
and  his  care  was  all  for  the  Athenian  people.  He  could  not 
conceive  an  universal  philanthropy.  Plato,  in  his  solicitude 
to  reduce  his  ideal  state  to  a  harmonious  whole,  answering  to 
his  idea  of  Justice,  sacrificed  the  individual.  He  superseded 
private  property,  broke  up  the  sacred  relations  of  family  and 
home,  degraded  woman,  and  tolerated  slavery.  Selfishness 
was  to  be  overcome,  and  political  order  maintained,  by  a  rigid 

^  Seneca  lived  in  the  second  century ;  Epictetus,  in  the  latter  part  of  the 
first  century. 


5o8  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

communism.  To  harmonize  individual  rights  and  national  in- 
terests, was  the  wisdom  reserved  for  the  fishermen  of  Galilee. 
The  whole  method  of  Plato's  "  Politeia,"  breathes  the  spirit  of 
legalism  in  all  its  severity,  untempered  by  the  spirit  of  Love. 
This  was  the  living  force  which  was  wanting  to  give  energy  to 
the  ideals  of  the  reason  and  conscience,  to  furnish  high  motive 
to  virtue,  to  prompt  to  deeds  of  heroic  sacrifice  and  suffering 
for  the  good  of  others  ;  and  this  could  ngt  be  inspired  by  phi- 
losophy, nor  constrained  by  legislation.  This  love  must  de- 
scend from  above.  "  The  Platonic  love  "  was  a  mere  intellect- 
ual appreciation  of  beauty,  and  order,  and  proportion,  and  ex- 
cellence. It  was  not  the  love  of  man  as  the  offspring  and 
image  of  God,  as  the  partaker  of  a  common  nature,  and  the 
heir  of  a  common  immortality.  Such  love  was  first  revealed 
on  earth  by  the  incarnate  Son  of  God,  and  can  only  be  attained 
by  human  hearts  under  the  inspiration  of  his  teaching  and  life, 
and  the  renewing  influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  "  Love  is  of 
God,  and  every  one  that  loveth  is  born  of  God  and  knoweth 
God."  To  "love  our  neighbor  as  ourself"  is  the  golden  pre- 
cept of  the  Son  of  God,  who  is  incarnate  Love.  The  equahty 
of  all  men  as  "  the  offspring  of  God  "  had  been  nominally  rec- 
ognized by  the  Stoic  philosophers ;  its  realization  had  been 
rendered  possible  to  the  popular  thought  by  Roman  conquest, 
law,  and  jurisprudence  j  these  had  prepared  the  way  for  its 
fullest  announcement  and  practical  recognition  by  the  world. 
At  this  providential'  juncture  St.  Paul  appears  on  Mars'  Hill, 
and  in  the  presence  of  the  assembled  philosophers  proclaims, 
^^  God  hath  made  of  one  blood  all  nations  of  men  J'  A  lofty  ideal 
of  moral  excellence  had  been  attained  by  Plato — the  concep- 
tion of  a  high  and  inflexible  morality,  which  contrasted  most 
vividly  with  the  depravity  which  prevailed  in  Athenian  society. 
The  education  "  of  the  public  assemblies,  the  courts,  the  thea- 
tres, or  wherever  the  multitude  gathered  "  was  unfavorable  to 
virtue.  And  the  inadequacy  of  all  mere  human  teaching  to  re- 
sist this  current  of  evil,  and  save  the  young  men  of  the  age  from 
ruin,  is  touchingly  and  mournfully  confessed  by  Plato.    "  There 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  509 

is  not,  there  never  was,  there  never  will  be  a  moral  education 
possible  that  can  countervail  the  education  of  which  these  are 
the  dispensers ;  that  is,  human  education :  I  except,  with  the 
proverb,  that  which  is  Divine.  And,  truly,  any  soul  that  in 
such  governments  escapes  the  common  wreck,  can  only  escape 
by  the  special  favor  of  heaven^^  He  affirms  again  and  again 
that  man  can  not  by  himself  rise  to  purity  and  goodness.  "  Vir- 
tue is  not  natural  to  man,  neither  is  it  to  be  learned,  but  it 
comes  to  us  by  a  divine  influence.  Virtue  is  the  gift  of  God  in 
those  who  possess  it.'"^  That  '"'gift  of  God"  was  about  to  be 
bestowed,  in  all  its  fullness  of  power  and  blessing,  "  through 
Jesus  Christ  our  Lord." 

In  the  department  of  religious  feeling  and  sentiment^  the 
propaedeutic  office  of  Greek  philosophy  is  seen,  in  general,  in 
the  revealing  of  the  immediate  spiritual  wants  of  the  soul,  and 
the  distinct  presentation  of  the  problem  which  Christianity 
alone  can  solve. 

I.  //  awakened  in  man  the  sense  of  distance  afid  estrangement 
from  God,  and  the  need  of  a  Mediator — "^  daysfnan  betwixt  us, 
that  might  lay  his  hand  upon  us  both."^ 

During  the  period  of  unconscious  and  unreflective  theism, 
the  sentiment  of  the  Divine  was  one  of  objective  nearness  and 
personal  intimacy.  The  gods  interposed  directly  in  the  affairs 
of  men,  and  held  frequent  and  familiar  intercourse  with  our 
race.  They  descend  to  the  battle-field  of  Troy,  and  mingle  in 
the  bloody  strife.  They  grace  the  wedding-feast  by  their  pres- 
ence, and  heighten  the  gladness  with  celestial  music.  They 
visit  the  poor  and  the  stranger,  and  sometimes  clothe  the  old 
and  shrivelled  beggar  with  celestial  beauty.  They  inspire  their 
favorites  with  strength  and  courage,  and  fill  their  mouths  with 
wisdom  and  eloquence.  They  manifest  their  presence  by  signs 
and  wonders,  by  visions  and  dreams,  by  auguries  and  prophetic 
voices.  But  more  frequently  than  all,  they  are  seen  in  the 
ordinary  phenomena  of  nature,  the  sunshine  and  storm,  the 

^  "  Republic,"  bk.  vi.  ch.  vi.,  vii.  *  **  Meno ;"  see  conclusion. 

^  Job  ix.  33. 


5IO  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

winds  and  tempests,  the  hail  and  rain.  The  natural  is,  in  fact, 
the  supernatural,  and  all  the  changes  of  nature  are  the  move- 
ment and  action  of  the  Divine.  The  feeling  of  dependence  is 
immediate  and  universal,  and  worship  is  the  natural  and  spon- 
taneous act  of  man. 

But  the  period  of  reflection  is  inevitable.  Man  turns  his 
inquiring  gaze  towards  nature  and  desires,  by  an  imperfect 
effort  of  physical  induction,  to  reach  "  the  first  principle  and 
cause  of  things."  Soon  he  discovers  the  prevalence  of  uni- 
formity in  nature,  the  actions  of  physical  properties  and  agen- 
cies, and  he  catches  some  glimpses  of  the  reign  of  universal 
law.  The  natural  tendency  of  this  discovery  is  obvious  in  the 
weakening  of  his  sense  of  dependence  on  the  immediate  agen- 
cy of  God.  The  Egyptians  told  Herodotus  that,  as  their  fields 
were  regularly  irrigated  by  the  waters  of  the  Nile,  they  were 
less  dependent  on  God  than  the  Greeks,  whose  lands  were 
watered  by  rains,  and  who  must  perish  if  Jupiter  did  not  send 
them  showers.^  As  man  advances  in  the  field  of  mere  physical 
inquiry,  God  recedes ;  from  the  region  of  explained  phenome- 
na, he  retires  into  the  region  of  unexplained  phenomena — the 
border-land  of  mystery.  The  gods  are  driven  from  the  woods 
and  streams,  the  winds  and  waves.  Neptune  does  not  abso- 
lutely control  the  seas,  nor  ^olus  the  winds.  The  Divine 
becomes,  no  more  a  physical  apxn — a  nature-power,  but  a  Su- 
preme Mind,  an  ineffable  Spirit,  an  invisible  God,  the  Supreme 
Essence  of  Essences,  the  Supreme  Idea  of  Ideas  (el^oc  aWb 
Ka&  avTo)  apprehended  by  human  reason  alone,  but  having  an 
independent,  eternal,  substantial,  personal  being.  Through 
the  instrumentality  of  Platonism,  the  idea  of  God  becomes 
clearer  and  purer.  Man  had  learned  that  communion  with 
the  Divinity  was  something  more  than  an  apotheosis  of  hu- 
manity, or  a  pantheistic  absorption.  He  caught  glimpses  of  a 
higher  and  holier  union.  He  had  surrendered  the  ideal  of  a 
national  communion  with  God,  and  of  personal  protection 
through  a  federal  religion,  and  now  was  thrown  back  upon 
^  Herodotus,  vol.  ii.  bk.  ii.  ch.  xiii.  p.  14  (Rawlinson's  edition). 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  5'ii 

himself  to  find  some  channel  of  personal  approach  to  God. 
But  alas !  he  could  not  find  it.  A  God  so  vastly  elevated  be- 
yond human  comprehension,  who  could  only  be  apprehended 
by  the  most  painful  effort  of  abstract  thought ;  a  God  so  infi- 
nitely removed  from  man  by  the  purity  and  rectitude  of  his 
character ;  a  God  who  was  all  pure  reason,  seemed  alien  to  all 
the  yearnings  and  sympathies  of  the  human  heart;  and  such 
a  God,  dwelling  in  pure  light,  seemed  inapproachable  and 
inacessible  to  man.*  The  purifying  of  the  religious  idea  had 
evoked  a  new  ideal,  and  this  ideal  was  painfully  remote.  By 
the  energy  of  abstract  thought  man  had  striven  to  pierce  the 
veil,  and  press  into  "the  Holy  of  Holies,"  to  come  into  the 
presence  of  God,  and  he  had  failed.  And  he  had  sought  by 
moral  discipline,  by  self-mortification,  by  inward  purification, 
to  raise  himself  to  that  lofty  plane  of  purity,  where  he  might 
catch  some  glimpses  of  the  vision  of  a  holy  God,  and  still  he 
failed.  Nay,  more,  he  had  tried  the  power  of  prayer.  Socra- 
tes, and  Plato,  and  Cleanthes  had  bowed  the  knee  and  moved 
the  lips  in  prayer.  The  emperor  Aurelius,  and  the  slave  Epic- 
tetus  had  prayed,  and  prayer,  no  doubt,  intensified  their  long- 
ing, and  sharpened  and  agonized  their  desire,  but  it  did  not 
raise  them  to  a  satisfying  and  holy  koinonia  in  the  divine  life. 
"It  seems  to  me" — said  Plato — "as  Homer  says  of  Minerva, 
that  she  removed  the  mist  from  before  the  eyes  of  Diomede, 

" '  That  he  might  clearly  see  'twixt  Gods  and  men.' 

SO  must  he,  in  the  first  place,  remove  from  your  soul  the  mist 
that  now  dwells  there,  and  then  apply  those  things  through 
which  you  will  be  able  to  know  "^  and  rightly  pray  to  God. 

To  develop  this  innate  desire  and  "  feeling  after  God  "  was 
the  grand  design  of  providence  in  "  fixing  the  times "  of  the 
Greek  nation,  and  "  the  boundaries  of  their  habitation."'  Man 
was  brought,  through  a  period  of  discipline,  to  feel  his  need 

^  "  To  discover  the  Maker  and  Father  of  the  universe  is  a  hard  task  ; . . . . 
to  make  him  known  to  all  is  impossible." — "  Timaeus,"  ch.  ix. 
*  "  Second  Alcibiades,"  §  23.  ^  Acts  xvii.  26,  27. 


512  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

of  a  personal  relation  to  God.  He  was  made  to  long  for  a 
realizing  sense  of  his  presence — to  desire  above  all  things  a 
Father,  a  Counsellor,  and  a  Friend — a  living  ear  into  which 
he  might  groan  his  anguish,  or  hymn  his  joy;  and  a  living 
heart  that  could  beat  towards  him  in  compassion,  and  prompt 
immediate  succor  and  aid.  The  idea  of  a  pure  Spiritual  Es- 
sence without  form,  and  without  emotion,  pervading  all,  and 
transcending  all,  is  too  vague  and  abstract  to  yield  us  comfort, 
and  to  exert  over  us  any  persuasive  power.  "Our  moral 
weakness  shrinks  from  it  in  trembling  awe.  The  heart  can 
not  feed  on  sublimities.  We  can  not  make  a*  home  of  cold 
magnificence;  we  can  not  take  immensity  by  the  hand."^ 
Hence  the  need  and  the  desire  that  God  shall  condescend- 
ingly approach  to  man,  and  by  some  manifestation  of  himself  in 
human  form,  and  through  the  sensibilities  of  the  human  heart, 
commend  himself  to  the  heart  of  man — in  other  words,  the 
need  of  an  Incarnation.  Thus  did  the  education  of  our  race, 
by  the  dispensation  of  philosophy,  prepare  the  way  for  him 
who  was  consciously  or  unconsciously  ^^  the  Desire  of  Nations ^^ 
and  the  deepening  earnestness  and  spiritual  solicitude  of  the 
heathen  world  heralded  the  near  approach  of  Him  who  was  not 
only  "the  Hope  of  Israel  "  but  "the  Saviour  of  the  world." 

The  idea  of  an  Incarnatio7i  was  not  unfamiliar  to  human 
thought,  it  was  no  new  or  strange  idea  to  the  heathen  mind. 
The.  numberless  metamorphoses  of  Grecian  mythology,  the  in- 
carnations of  Brahm,  the  avatars  of  Vishnu,  and  the  human 
form  of  Krishna  had  naturalized  the  thought.'^  So  that  when 
the  people  of  Lystra  saw  the  apostles  Paul  and  Barnabas  exer- 
cising supernatural  powers  of  healing,  they  said,  "The  gods 
have  come  down  to  us  in  the  likeness  of  men !"  and  they 
called  Barnabas  Jupiter,  and  Paul,  Mercurius.  The  idea  in 
its  more  definite  form  may  have  been,  and  indeed  was,  com- 
municated to  the  world  through  the  agency  of  the  dispersed 
Jews.  So  that  Virgil,  the  Roman  poet,  who  was  contempo- 
rary with  Christ,  seems  to  re-echo  the  prophecy  of  Isaiah — 
^  Caird.  ^  Young's  "  Christ  of  History,"  p.  248. 


QBEEK  PHILOSOPHY.  513 

"The  last  age  decreed  by  the  Fates  is  come, 
And  a  new  frame  of  all  things  does  begin ; 
A  holy  progeny  from  heaven  descends 
Auspicious  in  his  birth,  which  puts  an  end 
To  the  iron  age,  and  from  which  shall  arise 
A  golden  age,  most  glorious  to  behold." 

II.  Finally  f  Greek  philosophy  prepared  the  way  for  Christianity 
by  awakening  and  deepeniiig  the  consciousness  of  guilty  and  the  de- 
sire for  Redemption. 

The  consciousness  of  sin,  and  the  consequent  need  of  expi- 
ation for  sin,  were  gradually  unfolded  in  the  Greek  mind.  The 
idea  of  sin  was  at  first  revealed  in  a  confused  and  indefinite 
feeling  of  some  external,  supernatural,  and  bewildering  influence 
which  man  can  not  successfully  resist ;  but  yet  so  in  harmony 
with  the  sinner's  inclination,  that  he  can  not  divest  himself  of 
all  responsibility.  "  Homer  has  no  word  answering  in  compre- 
hensiveness or  depth  of  meaning  to  the  word  sin,  as  it  is  used 

in  the  Bible The  noun  afiaprla  which  is  appropriated  to 

express  this  idea  in  the  Greek  of  the  New  Testament,  does  not 

occur  in  the  Homeric  poems The  word  which  is  most 

frequently  employed  to  express  wrong-doing  of  every  kind  is 

UTT],  with  its  corresponding  verb The  radical  signification 

of  the  word  seems  to  be  a  befooling — a  depriving  one  of  his 
senses  and  his  reason,  as  by  unseasonable  sleep,  and  excess 
of  wine,  joined  with  the  influence  of  evil  companions,  and  the 
power  of  destiny,  or  the  deity.  Hence,  the  Greek  imagina- 
tion, which  impersonated  every  great  power,  very  naturally 
conceived  of  "Arr}  as  a  person,  a  sort  of  omnipresent  and  uni- 
versal cause  of  folly  and  sin,  of  mischief  and  misery,  who, 
though  the  daughter  of  Jupiter,  yet  once  fooled  or  misled  Ju- 
piter himself,  and  thenceforth,  cast  down  from  heaven  to  earth, 
walks  with  light  feet  over  the  heads  of  men,  and  makes  all 
things  go  wrong.  Hence,  too,  when  men  come  to  their  senses, 
and  see  what  folly  and  wrong  they  have  perpetrated,  they  cast 
the  blame  on  "Arr/,  and  so,  ultimately,  on  Jupiter  and  the 
gods."^ 

^  Tyler,  "  Theology  of  the  Greek  Poets,"  pp.  174,  175. 
33 


514  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

"Oft  hath  this  matter  been  by  Greeks  discussed, 
And  I  their  frequent  censure  have  incurred: 
Yet  was  not  I  the  cause ;  but  Jove,  and  Fate, 
And  gloomy  Erinnys,  who  combined  to  thjrow 
A  strong  delusion  o'er  my  mind,  that  day 
I  robb'd  Achilles  of  his  lawful  prize. 
What  could  I  do  ?  a  Goddess  all  o'erruled, 
Daughter  of  Jove,  dread  Ate,  baleful  power 
Misleading  all ;  with  light  step  she  moves, 
Not  on  the  earth,  but  o'er  the  heads  of  men. 
With  blighting  touch,  and  many  hath  caused  to  err."* 

And  yet,  though  Agamemnon  here  attempts  to  shuffle  off  the 
guilt  of  his  trangression  upon  Ate,  Jove,  and  Fate,  yet  at  other 
times  he  confesses  his  folly  and  wrong,  and  makes  no  attempt 
to  cast  the  responsibility  on  the  gods.^  Though  misled  by  a 
"baleful  power,"  he  was  not  compelled.  Though  tempted  by 
an  evil  goddess,  he  yet  followed  his  own  sinful  passions,  and 
therefore  he  owns  himself  responsible. 

To  satisfy  the  demands  of  divine  justice,  to  show  its  hatred 
of  sin,  and  to  deter  others  from  transgression,  sin  is  punished. 
Punishment  is  the  penalty  due  to  sin;  in  the  language  of 
Homer,  it  is  the  payment  of  a  debt  incurred  by  sin.  When  the 
transgressor  is  punished  he  is  said  to  "  pay  off,"  or  "  pay  back  " 
his  crimes ;  in  other  words,  to  expatiate  or  atone  for  them. 

"  If  not  at  once. 
Yet  soon  or  late  will  Jove  assert  their  claim. 
And  heavy  penalty  the  perjured  pay 
With  their  own  blood,  their  children's,  and  their  wives'."^ 

At  the  same  time  the  belief  is  expressed  that  the  gods  may  be, 
and  often  are,  propitiated  by  prayers  and  sacrifices,  and  thus 
the  penalty  is  remitted. 

"  The  Gods  themselves,  in  virtue,  honor,  strength, 
Excelling  thee,  may  yet  be  mollified ; 
For  they  when  mortals  have  transgressed,  or  fail'd 
To  do  aright,  by  sacrifice  and  pray'r, 
Libations  and  burnt-offrings,  may  be  sooth'dv"* 

*  "  Iliad,"  bk.  xix.  1.  91-101  (Lord  Derby's  translation). 

2  Ibid.,  bk.  ix.  1.  132-136.  '  Ibid.,  bk.  iv.  1.  185-18S. 

*  Ibid.,  bk.  ix.  1.  581-585. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  515 

Polytheism,  then,  as  Dr.  Schaff  has  remarked,  had  the  voice 
of  conscience,  and  a  sense,  however  obscure,  of  sin.  It  felt 
the  need  of  reconciliation  with  deity,  and  sought  that  recon- 
ciliation by  prayer,  penance,  and  sacrifice.^ 

The  sense  of  the  exceeding  sinfulness  of  sin,  and  the  abso- 
lute need  of  expiation,  is  determined  with  increasing  clearness 
and  definiteness  in  the  tragic  poets. 

The  first  great  law  which  the  Tragedians  recognize,  as  a  law 
written  on  the  heart,  is  "  that  the  sinner  must  suffer  for  his 
sins."  The  connection  between  sin  and  suffering  is  constantly 
recognized  as  a  natural  and  necessary  connection,  like  that  be- 
tween sowing  and  reaping. 

"  A  haughty  spirit,  blossoming,  bears  a  crop 
Of  woe,  and  reaps  a  harvest  of  despair."* 

"  Lust  and  violence  beget  lust  and  violence,  and  vengeance 
too,  at  the  appointed  time."^  "Impiety  multiplies  and  per- 
petuates itself."*  "The  sinner  pays  the  debt  he  contracted, 
ends  the  career  that  he  begins,"^  "  and  drinks  to  the  dregs  the 
cup  of  cursing  which  he  himself  had  filled.""  Conscience  is 
the  instrument  in  the  hands  of  Justice  and  Vengeance  by 
which  the, Most  High  inflicts  punishment.  The  retributions 
of  sin  are  "wrought  out  by  God." 

The  consequences  of  great  crimes,  especially  in  high  places, 
extend  to  every  person  and  every  thing  connected  with  them. 
"  The  country  and  the  country's  gods  are  polluted."'  "  The 
army  and  the  people  share  in  the  curse."®  "The  earth  itself  is 
polluted  with  the  shedding  of  blood,"**  "  and  even  the  innocent 
and  the  virtuous  who  share  the  enterprises  of  the  wicked  may 
be  involved  in  their  ruin,  as  the  pious  man  must  sink  with  the 
ungodly  when  he  embarks  in  the  same  ship."*" 

The  pollution  and  curse  of  sin,  when  once  contracted  by  an 
individual,  or  entailed  upon  a  family,  will  rest  upon  them  and 

*  Tyler,  "  Theology  of  the  Greek  Poets,"  p.  258. 

'  iEschylus,  "  Persae,"  1.  821.  ^  "Agamemnon,"  1.  763. 

*  Ibid.,  1.  788.  '  Ibid.,  1.  1529.  "  Ibid.,  1.  1397. 
'  Ib^.,  1. 1645.              ^"  Persae," /flw/;;?.  »"  Sup.,"  265. 

Theb.,"  p.  602. 


5i6  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

pursue  them  till  the  polluted  individual  or  the  hated  and  ac- 
cursed race  is  extinct,  unless  in  some  way  the  sin  can  be  ex- 
piated, or  some  god  interpose  to  arrest  the  penalty.  The  crim- 
inal must  die  by  the  hand  of  justice,  and  even  in  Hades  ven- 
geance will  still  pursue  him.'  Others  may  in  time  be  washed 
away  by  ablutions,  worn  away  by  exile  and  pilgrimage,  and  ex- 
piated by  offerings  of  blood.'*  But  great  crimes  can  not  be 
washed  away;  "For  what  expiation  is  there  for  blood  when 
once  it  has  fallen  on  the  ground."'  Thus  the  law  (w/ioc) — for 
so  it  is  expressly  called — as  from  an  Attic  Sinai,  rolls  its  rever- 
berating thunders,  and  pronounces  its  curses  upon  sin,  from 
act,  to  act  and  from  chorus  to  chorus  of  that  grand  trilogy — 
the  "Agamemnon,"  the  "  Choephoroe,"  and  the  "Eumenides." 

But  after  the  law  comes  the  gospel.  First  the  controversy, 
then  the  reconciliation.  A  dim  consciousness  of  sin  and  retri- 
bution as  a  fact,  and  of  reconciliation  as  a  want,  seems  to  have 
revealed  itself  even  in  the  darkest  periods  of  history.  This 
consciousness  underlies  not  a  few  of  the  Greek  tragedies. 
"The  *  Prometheus  Bound'  was  followed  by  the  *  Prometheus 
Unbound,'  reconciled  and  restored  through  the  intervention  of 
Jove's  son.  The  '  CEdipus  Tyrannus '  of  Sophocles  was  com- 
pleted by  the  *  OEdipus  Colonus,'  where  he  dies  in  peace  amid 
tokens  of  divine  favor.  And  so  the  'Agamemnon '  and  *  Choe- 
phoroe' reach  their  consummation  only  in  the  *  Eumenides,' 
where  the  Erinyes  themselves  are  appeased,  and  the  Furies  be- 
come the  gracious  ones.  This  is  not,  however,  without  a  special 
divine  interposition,  and  then  only  after  a  severe  struggle  be- 
tween the  powers  that  cry  for  justice  and  those  that  plead  for 
mercy." 

The  office  and  work  which,  in  this  trilogy,  is  assigned  to 
Jove's  son,  Apollo,  must  strike  every  reader  as  at  least  a  re- 
markable resemblance,  if  not  a  foreshadowing  of  the  Christian 
doctrine  of  reconciliation.  "This  becomes  yet  more  striking 
when  we  bring  into  view  the  relation  in  which  this  reconciling 
work  stands  to  Zevc  'Liiirr]^,  Jupiter_S^our — ZtvQ  rpiTog,  Jupiter 

^  "  Sup.,"  1.  227.  ^  "  Eum.,"  1.  445  seq.  '  "  Choeph.,"  1.  47. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  517 

the  third,  who,  in  connection  with  Apollo  and  Athena,  consum- 
mates the  reconciliation.  Not  only  is  Apollo  a  2w7-//p,  a  Sav- 
iour, who,  having  himself  been  exiled  from  heaven  among  men, 
will  pity  the  poor  and  needy  -^  not  only  does  Athena  sympa- 
thize with  the  defendant  at  her  tribunal,  and,  uniting  the  office 
of  advocate  and  judge,  persuade  the  avenging  deities  to  be  ap- 
peased f  but  Zeus  is  the  beginning  and  end  of  the  whole  proc- 
ess. Apollo  appears  as  the  advocate  of  Orestes  only  at  her 
bidding  f  Athena  inclines  to  the  side  of  the  accused,  as  the 
offspring  of  the  brain  of  Zeus,  and  of  like  mind  with  him."* 
Orestes,  after  his  acquittal,  says  that  he  obtained  it 

*'  By  means  of  Pallas  and  of  Loxias 
And  the  third  Saviour  who  doth  all  things  sway."^ 

Platonism  reveals  a  still  closer  affinity  with  Christianity  in  its 
doctrine  of  sin,  and  its  sense  of  the  need  of  salvation.  Plato 
is  sacredly  jealous  for  the  honor  and  purity  of  the  divine  char- 
acter, and  rejects  with  indignation  every  hypothesis  which  would 
make  God  the  author  of  sin.  "  God,  inasmuch  as  he  is  good, 
can  not  be  the  cause  of  all  things,  as  the  common  doctrine 
represents  him  to  be.  On  the  contrary,  he  is  the  author  of  only 
a  small  part  of  human  affairs ;  of  the  larger  part  he  is  not  the 
author;  for  our  evil  things  far  outnumber  our  good  things. 
The  good  things  we  must  ascribe  to  God,  whilst  we  must  seek 
elsewhere,  and  not  in  him,  the  causes  of  evil.""  The  doctrine 
of  the  poets,  which  would  in  some  way  charge  on  the  gods  the 
errors  of  men,  he  sternly  resists.  "  We  must  express  our  dis- 
approbation of  Homer,  or  any  other  poet,  if  guilty  of  such  fool- 
ish blunders  about  the  gods  as  to  tell  us'^ 

"  *  Fast  by  the  threshold  of  Jove's  court  are  placed 
Two  casks,  one  stored  with  evil,  one  with  good,' 

And  that  he  for  whom  the  Thunderer  mingles  both 

"*He  leads  a  life  checker'd  with  good  and  ill.' 

^  "  Sup.,"  1.  214.      =  "  Eum.,"  1.  970.      '  Ibid.,  1.  616.      *  Ibid.,  1.  664,  737. 
^  Tyler's  "  Theology  of  the  Greek  Poets,"  especially  ch.  v.,  from  which 
the  above  materials  are  drawn. 

"  '*  Republic,"  bk.  ii.  ch.  xviii.  "^  "  Ili-id,"  xxiv.,  1.  660. 


5l8  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

Nor  can  we  let  our  young  people  know  that,  in  the  words  of 

^Eschylus — 

*' '  When  to  destruction  God  will  plague  a  house 
He  plants  among  the  members  guilt  and  sin.'  "^ 

Whatever  in  the  writings  of  Homer  and  the  tragic  poets  gives 
countenance  to  the  notion  that  God  is,  in  the  remotest  sense, 
the  author  of  sin,  must  be  expunged.  Here  is  clearly  a  great 
advance  in  ethical  conceptions. 

The  great  defect  in  the  ethical  system  of  Plato  was  the 
identification  of  evil  with  the  inferior  or  corporeal  nature  of 
man — "  the  irascible  and  concupiscible  elements,"  fashioned  by 
the  junior  divinities.  The  rational  and  immortal  part  of  man's 
nature,  which  is  derived  immediately  from  God — the  Supreme 
Good,  naturally  chooses  the  good  as  its  supreme  end  and  des- 
tination. Hence  he  adopted  the  Socratic  maxim  "  that  no  man 
is  willingly  evil,"  that  is,  no  man  deliberately  chooses  evil  as 
evil,  but  only  as  a  seeming  good — he  does  not  choose  evil  as 
an  end,  though  he  may  choose  it  voluntarily  as  a  means.  Plato 
manifests  great  solicitude  to  guard  this  maxim  from  miscon- 
ception and  abuse.  Man  has,  in  his  judgment,  the  power  to 
act  in  harmony  with  his  higher  reason,  or  contrary  to  reason ; 
to  obey  the  voice  of  conscience  or  the  clamors  of  passion,  and 
consequently  he  is  the  object  of  praise  or  blame,  reward  or 
punishment.  "When  a  man  does  not  consider  himself,  but 
others,  as  the  cause  of  his  own  sins, and  even  seeks  to  ex- 
cuse himself  from  blame,  he  dishonors  and  injures  his  own 
soul ;  so,  also,  when  contrary  to  reason  ...  he  indulges  in  pleas- 
ure, he  dishonors  it  by  filling  it  with  vice  and  remorse."''  The 
work  and  effort  of  life,  the  end  of  this  probationary  economy, 
is  to  make  reason  triumphant  over  passion,  and  discipline  our- 
selves to  a  purer  and  nobler  life. 

The  obstacles  to  a  virtuous  life  are,  however,  confessedly 

numberless,  and,  humanly  speaking,  insurmountable.     To  raise 

one's  self  above  the  clamor  of  passion,  the  power  of  evil,  the 

bondage  of  the  flesh,  is  acknowledged,  in  mournful  language, 

^  "  Republic,"  bk.  ii.  ch.  xviii.,  xix.  ^  *'  Laws,"  bk.  v.  ch.  i. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  519 

to  be  a  hopeless  task.  A  cloud  of  sadness  shades  the  brow  of 
Plato  as  he  contemplates  the  fallen  state  of  man.  In  the 
"  Phaedrus  "  he  describes,  in  gorgeous  imagery,  the  purity,  and 
beauty,  and  felicity  of  the  soul  in  its  anterior  and  primeval 
state,  when,  charioteering  through  the  highest  arch  of  heaven 
in  company  with  the  Deity,  it  contemplated  the  divine  justice 
and  beauty ;  but  "  this  happy  life,"  says  he,  "  we  forfeited  by 
our  transgression."  Allured  by  strange  affections,  our  souls 
forgot  the  sacred  things  that  we  were  made  to  contemplate  and 
love — we  /e//.  And  now,  in  our  fallen  state,  the  soul  has  lost 
its  pristine  beauty  and  excellence.  It  has  become  more  disr 
figured  than  was  Glaucus,  the  seaman  "  whose  primitive  form 
was  not  recognizable,  so  disfigured  had  he  become  by  his  long 
dwelling  in  the  sea."^  To  restore  this  lost  image  of  the  good, 
— to  regain  "  this  primitive  form,''  is  not  the  work  of  man,  but 
God.  Man  can  not  save  himself.  "Virtue  is  not  natural  to 
man,  neither  is  it  to  be  learned,  but  it  comes  by  a  divine  influ- 
ence. Vi'rft^e  is  the  gift  of  God^^  He  needs  a  discipUne,  "  an 
education  which  is  divine."  If  he  is  saved  from  the  common 
wreck,  it  must  be  "  by  the  special  favor  of  Heaven."^  He  must 
be  delivered  from  sin,  if  ever  delivered,  by  the  interposition  of 
God. 

Plato  was,  in  some  way,  able  to  discover  the  need  of  a 
Saviour,  to  desire  a  Saviour,  but  he  could  not  predict  his 
appearing.  Hints  are  obscurely  given  of  a  Conqueror  of  sin, 
an  Assuager  of  pain,  an  Averter  of  evil  in  this  life,  and  of  the 
impending  retributions  of  the  future  life ;  but  they  are  exceed- 
ingly indefinite  and  shadowy.  In  all  instances  they  are  rather 
the  language  of  desire^  than  of  hope.  Platonism  awakened  in 
the  heart  of  humanity  a  consciousness  of  sin  and  a  profound 
feeling  of  want — the  want  of  a  Redeemer  from  sin,  a  spiritual, 
a  divine  Remedy  for  its  moral  malady — and  it  strove  after 
some  remedial  power.  But  it  was  equally  conscious  of  failure 
and  defeat.     It  could  enlighten  the  reason,  but  it  could  only 

^  "  Republic,"  bk.  x.  ch.  xi.  ^  "  Meno." 

^  "  Republic,"  bk.  vi.  ch.  vi.,  vii. 


520  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

act  imperfectly  on  the  will.  Platonic  was  a  striking  counter- 
part to  Pauline  experience  prior  to  the  apostle's  deliverance 
by  the  power  and  grace  of  Christ.  It  discovered  that  "the 
Law  is  holy,  and  the  commandment  is  holy,  and  just,  and 
good."  It  recognized  that  "  it  is  spiritual,  but  man  is  carnal, 
the  slave  of  sin."  It  could  say,  "What  I  do  I  approve  not; 
for  I  do  not  what  I  would,  but  what  I  hate.  But  if  my  will 
[my  better  judgment]  is  against  what  I  do,  I  consent  unto  the 
Law  that  it  is  good.  And  now  it  is  no  more  I  that  do  it,  but 
sin,  that  dwelleth  in  me.  For  I  know  that  in  me,  that  is,  in 
my  flesh,  good  abideth  not,  for  to  will  is  present  with  me,  but 
the  power  to  do  the  right  is  absent :  the  good  that  I  would,  I 
do  not ;  but  the  evil  that  I  would  not,  that  I  do.  I  consent 
gladly  to  the  law  of  God  in  my  inner  man  ['  the  rational  and 
immortal  nature  "] ;  but  I  behold  a  law  in  my  members  ['  the 
irascible  and  concupiscible  nature"]  warring  against  the  law 
of  my  mind  (or  reason),  and  bringing  me  into  captivity  to  the 
law  of  sin  which  is  in  my  members.  Oh  wretched  man  that  I 
am  !  who  shall  deliver  me  from  the  body  of  this  death  ?"^  Paul 
was  able  to  say,  "  I  thank  God  (that  he  hath  now  delivered  me), 
through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord !"  Platonism  could  only  desire, 
and  hope,  and  wait  for  the  coming  of  a  Deliverer. 

This  consciousness  of  the  need  of  supernatural  light  and 
help,  and  this  aspiration  after  a  light  supernati\ral  and  divine, 
which  Plato  inherited  from  Socrates,  constrained  him  to  regard 
with  toleration,  and  even  reverence,  every  apparent  approach, 
every  pretension,  even,  to  a  divine  inspiration  and  guidance 
in  the  age  in  which  he  lived.  "  The  greatest  blessings  which 
men  receive  come  through  the  operation  oi  phrensy  {jiavla — 
inspired  exaltation),  when  phrensy  is  the  gift  of  God.  The 
prophetess  of  Delphi,  and  the  priestess  of  Dodona,  many  are 
the  benefits  which  in  their  phrensies  (moments  of  inspiration) 
they  have  bestowed  upon  Greece ;  but  in  their  hours  of  self- 
possession,  few  or  none.  And  too  long  were  it  to  speak  of 
the  Sibyl,  and  others,  who,  inspired  and  prophetic,  have  deliv- 
^  Plato.  ^  Ibid.  ^  Romans,  vii. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  52 1 

ered  utterances  beneficial  to  the  hearers.  Indeed,  this  word 
phrenetic  or  maniac  is  no  reproach  ;  it  is  identical  with  mantic 
—  prophetic.^  And  often  when  diseases  and  plagues  have 
fallen  upon  men  for  the  sins  of  their  forefathers,  some  phrensy 
too  has  broken  forth,  and  in  prophetic  strain  has  pointed  out 
a  remedy,  showing  how  the  sin  might  be  expiated,  and  the  gods 

appeased  (by  prayers,  and  purifications,  and  atoning  rites) 

So  many  and  yet  more  great  effects  could  I  tell  you  of  the 
phrensy  which  comes  from  the  gods."^  Some  have  discerned 
in  all  this  merely  the  food  for  a  feeble  ridicule.  They  regard 
these  sentiments  as  simply  an  evidence  of  the  power  and  prev- 
alence of  superstition  clouding  the  loftiest  intellects  in  ancient 
times.  By  the  more  thoughtful  and  philosophic  mind,  how- 
ever, they  will  be  accepted  as  an  indication  of  the  imperishable 
and  universal  faith  of  humanity  in  a  supernatural  and  super- 
sensuous  world,  and  in  the  possibility  of  some  communication 
between  heaven  and  earth.'  And  above  all,  it  is  a  conclusive 
proof  that  Plato  believed  that  the  knowledge  of  salvation — of 
a  remedy  for  sin,  a  method  of  expiation  for  sin,  a  means  of 
deliverance  from  the  power  and  jDunishment  of  sin,  must  be 
revealed  from  Heaven. 

Paul,  then,  found,  even  in  that  focus  of  Paganism,  the  city 
of  Athens,  religious  aspirations  tending  towards  Jesus  Christ. 
A  true  philosophic  method,  notwithstanding  its  shortcomings 
and  imperfections,  concluded  by  desiring  and  seeking  "the 
Unknown  God,"  by  demanding  him  from  all  forms  of  worship, 
from  all  schools  of  philosophy.  The  great  work  of  preparation 
in  the  heathen  world  consisted  in  the  developing  of  the  desire 
for  salvation.  It  proved  that  God  is  the  great  want  of  every 
human  soul ;  that  there  is  a  profound  affinity  between  con- 
science and  the  living  God;   and  that  Tertullian  was  right 

^  MaviG,  phrensy ;  fiavrig,  a  prophet — one  who  utters  oracles  in  a  state 
of  divine  phrensy ;  /navTiKr/,  the  prophetic  art, 

^  "  Phaedrus,"  §  47-50  (Whewell's  translation). 

^  "  Vehis  opinio  est,  jam  usque  ab  heroicis  ducta  temporibus,  eaque  et 
populi  Romani  et  omnium  getttium  firmata  consensu,  versari  quandem  inter 
homines  divinationem." — Cicero,  "  De  Divin.,"  i.  i. 


522  CHRISTIANITY  AND 

when  he  wrote  the  "Testimonium  Animae  naturaliter  Chris- 
tianae."'  And  when  it  was  sufficiently  demonstrated  that  "the 
world  by  philosophy  knew  not  God  (as  a  Redeeming  God  and 
Saviour),  then  it  pleased  God  by  the  foolishness  of  preaching 
to  save  them  that  believe."  This  was  all  a  dispensation  of 
divine  providence,  which  was  determined  by,  or  "in,  the  wis- 
dom of  God."' 

The  history  of  the  religions  and  philosophies  of  human 
origin  thus  becomes  to  us  a  striking  confirmation  of  the  truth 
of  Christianity.  It  shows  there  is  a  wondrous  harmony  be- 
tween the  instinctive  wants  and  yearnings  of  the  human  heart, 
as  well  as  the  necessary  ideas  and  laws  of  the  reason,  and  the 
fundamental  principles  of  revealed  religion.  There  is  "  a  law 
written  on  the  heart" — written  by  the  finger  of  God,  which 
corresponds  to  the  laws  written  by  the  same  finger  on  "  tables 
of  stone."  There  are  certain  necessary  and  immutable  prin- 
ciples and  ideas  infolded  in  the  reason  of  man,  which  harmo- 
nize with  the  revelations  of  the  Eternal  Logos  in  the  written 
word.'  There  are  instinctive  longings,  mysterious  yearnings 
of  the  human  heart,  to  which  that  unveiling  of  the  heart  of 
God  which  is  made  in  the  teaching  and  life  of  the  incarnate 
God  most  satisfyingly  answers.  Within  the  depths  of  the  hu- 
man spirit  there  is  an  "  oracle  "  which  responds  to  the  voice  of 
"the  living  oracles  of  God." 

Here,  then,  are  two  distinct  and  independent  revelations — 
the  unwritten  revelation  which  God  has  made  to  all  men  in 
the  constitution  of  the  human  mind,  and  the  external  written 
revelation  which  he  has  made  in  the  person  and  teaching  of 
his  Son.  And  these  two  are  perfectly  harmonious.  We  have 
here  two  great  volumes — the  volume  of  conscience,  and  the 

^  Pressense,  "  Religions  before  Christ"  (Introduction) ;  Neander, "  Church 
History,"  vol.  i.  (Introduction). 

^  I  Corinthians,  i.  21. 

^  "  The  surmise  of  Plato,  that  the  world  of  appearance  subsists  in  and  by 
a  higher  world  of  Divine  Thought,  is  confirmed  by  Christianity  when  it  tells 
us  of  a  Divine  subsistence — that  Eternal  Word  by  whom  and  in  whom  all 
things  consist" — Vaughan,  "Hours  with  the  Mystics,"  vol.  i.  p.  213. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  523 

volume  of  the  New  Testament.  We  open  them,  and  find  they 
announce  the  same  truths — one  in  dim  outline,  the  other  in  a 
full  portraiture.  There  are  the  same  fundamental  principles 
underlying  both  revelations.  They  both  bear  the  impress  of 
divinity.  The  history  of  philosophy  may  have  been  marked 
by  many  errors  of  interpretation ;  so,  also,  has  the  history  of 
dogmatic  theology.  Men  may  have  often  misunderstood  and 
misinterpreted  the  dictates  of  conscience ;  so  have  theologians 
misunderstood  and  misinterpreted  the  dictates  of  revelation. 
The  perversions  of  conscience  and  reason  have  been  plead 
in  defense  of  error  and  sin ;  and  so,  for  ages,  have  the  per- 
versions of  Scripture  been  urged  in  defense  of  slavery,  oppres- 
sion, falsehood,  and  wrong.  Sometimes  the  misunderstood 
utterances  of  conscience,  of  philosophy,  and  of  science  have 
been  arrayed  against  the  incorrect  interpretations  of  the  Word 
of  God.  But  when  both  are  better  understood,  and  more 
justly  conceived,  they  are  found  in  wondrous  harmony.  When 
the  New  Testament  speaks  to  man  of  God,  of  duty,  of  immor- 
tality, and  of  retribution,  man  feels  that  its  teachings  "com- 
mend themselves  to  his  conscience"  and  reason.  When  it 
speaks  to  him  of  redemption,  of  salvation,  of  eternal  life  and 
blessedness,  he  feels  that  it  meets  and  answers  all  the  wants 
and  longings  of  his  heart.  Thus  does  Christianity  throw  light 
upon  the  original  revelations  of  God  in  the  human  conscience, 
and  answers  all  the  yearnings  of  the  human  soul.  So  it  is 
found  in  individual  experiences,  so  it  has  been  found  in  the 
history  of  humanity.  As  Leverrier  and  Adams  were  enabled 
to  affirm,  from  purely  mathematical  reasoning,  that  another 
planet  must  exist  beyond  Uranus  which  had  never  yet  been 
seen  by  human  eyes,  and  then,  afterwards,  that  affirmation  was 
gloriously  verified  in  the  discovery  of  Neptune  by  the  telescope 
of  Galle ;  so  the  reasonings  of  ancient  philosophy,  based  on 
certain  necessary  laws  of  mind,  enabled  man  to  affirm  the  ex- 
istence of  a  God,  of  the  soul,  of  a  future  retribution,  and  an 
eternal  life  beyond  the  grave ;  and,  then,  subsequently,  these 
were  brought  fully  into  light,  and  verified  by  the  Gospel. 


524       CHRISTIANITY  AND  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

We  conclude  in  the  words  of  Pressense  :  "To  isolate  it  from 
the  past,  would  be  to  refuse  to  comprehend  the  nature  of  Chris- 
tianity itself,  and  the  extent  of  its  triumphs.  Although  the 
Gospel  is  not,  as  has  been  affirmed,  the  product  of  anterior  civ- 
ilizations— a  mere  compound  of  Greek  and  Oriental  elements 
— it  is  not  the  less  certain  that  it  brings  to  the  human  mind 
the  satisfaction  vainly  sought  by  it  in  the  East  as  in  the  West. 
Omnia  subito  is  not  its  device,  but  that  of  the  Gnostic  heresy. 
Better  to  say,  with  Clement  of  Alexandria  and  Origen,  that  the 
night  of  paganism  had  its  stars  to  light  it,  but  that  they  called 
to  the  Morning-star  which  stood  over  Bethlehem." 

"  If  we  regard  philosophy  as  a  preparation  for  Christianity, 
instead  of  seeking  in  it  a  substitute  for  the  Gospel,  we  shall  not 
need  to  overstate  its  grandeur  in  order  to  estimate  its  real 
value." 


CONTENTS 


Abstraction,  comparative  and  immediate, 
187-189 ;  362-364. 

^schylus,  his  conception  of  tlie  Supreme 
Divinity,  146 ;  his  recognition  of  human 
guilt,  and  need  of  expiation,  515-517. 

Etiological  proof  of  the  existence  of  God, 
487-489. 

Anaxagoras,  an  Eclectic,  311 ;  in  his  phys- 
ical theory  an  Atomist,  312 ;  taught  that 
the  Order  of  the  universe  can  only  be  ex- 
plained by  Intelligence,  312 ;  his  psychol- 
ogy, 313 ;  the  teacher  of  Socrates,  313. 

Anaximander,  his  first  principle  the  infi- 
nite, 290 ;  his  infinite  a  chaos  of  primary 
elements,  290. 

Anaximenes,  a  vitalist,  286 ;  his  first  prin- 
ciple air,  287. 

Aristotle,  his  opinion  of  the  popular  poly- 
theism of  Greece,  157 ;  his  classification 
of  causes,  280,  404, 405 ;  his  misrepresen- 
tations of  Pythagoras,  299 ;  his  classifica- 
tion of  the  sciences,  389 ;  his  Organon, 
889-394 ;  his  Logic,  394^03 ;  his  Theolo- 
gy, 404-417;  his  Ethics,  417-421 ;  his  Cat- 
egories, 395 ;  his  logical  treatises,  396 ; 
on  induction  and  deduction,  396-398 ;  his 
psychology,  398,  401 ;  on  how  the  knowl- 
edge of  first  principles  is  attained,  394, 
402,  403 ;  on  Matter  and  Form,  405^08 ; 
on  Potentiality  and  Actuality,  408-412 ; 
his  proof  of  the  Divine  existence,  412-415 ; 
on  the  chief  good  of  man,  419,  420 ;  his 
doctrine  of  the  Mean,  420, 421 ;  defect  of 
his  ethical  system,  505. 

'Apxai,  or  first  principles,  the  grand  object 
of  investigation  in  Greek  Philosophy,  271, 
274,  279,  280. 

Athenians,  criticism  on  Plutarch's  sketch 
of  their  character,  45 ;  their  vivacity,  45 ; 
love  of  freedom,  46— and  of  country,  46 ; 


private  life  of,  47 ;  intellectual  character 
of,  48 ;  inquisitive  and  analytic,  48 ;  rare 
combinations  of  imagination  and  reason- 
ing powers,  49 ;  religion  of,  98 ;  the  Athe- 
nians a  religious  people,  102 ;  their  faith 
in  the  being  and  providence  of  God,  107 ; 
their  consciousness  of  dependence  on 
God,  110, 116 ;  their  religious  emotions, 
117 ;  their  deep  consciousness  of  sin  and 
guilt,  122-124 ;  their  sense  of  the  need  of 
expiation,  124, 125 ;  their  religion  exert- 
ed some  wholesome  moral  influence,  162, 
163. 

Athens,  topography  of,  27 ;  the  Agora,  28 ; 
its  porticoes,  29 ;  the  Acropolis,  30 ;  its 
temples,  31 ;  the  Areopagus,  33 ;  sacred 
objects  in,  98,  99 ;  images  of  the  gods,  99 ; 
localities  of  schools  of  philosophy  in, 
266-268. 

Attica,  geographical  boundaries  of,  26;  a 
classic  land,  34 ;  its  geographical  and  cos- 
mical  conditions  providentially  ordained 
for  great  moral  ends,  34,  35 ;  soil  of,  not 
favorable  to  agriculture,  40— necessitated 
industry  and  frugality,  41 ;  the  climate 
of,  41 — its  influence  on  the  mental  char- 
acter of  the  people,  42. 

B. 

Bacon,  his  assertion  that  the  search  after 
final  causes  had  misled  scientific  in- 
quirers, 222. 

C. 

Categories  of  Aristotle,  395. 

Causality,  principle  of,  189 ;  assailed  by  the 
Materialists,  194— especially  by  Comte, 
203-209 ;  the  intuition  of  power  a  fact 
of  immediate  consciousness,  204 ;  con- 
sciousness of  effort  the  type  of  all  force, 


526 


CONTENTS. 


211 ;  Aristotle  on  Causality,  413 :  etiolog- 
ical proof  of  existence  of  God,  4ST-489. 

Cause,  origin  of  the  idea  of,  204,  205. 

Causes,  Aristotle's  classification  of,  280, 
404, 405. 

Chief  good  of  man,  Aristotle  on,  419, 420. 

Cleauthes,  his  hymn  to  Jupiter,  452, 453. 

Comte,  his  theory  of  the  origin  of  religion, 
57-65;  his  doctrine  that  all  knowledge 
is  confined  to  material  phenomena,  203 ; 
denies  all  causation,  both  efficient  and 
final,  203-214. 

Conditioned,  law  of  the,  227, 228 ;  is  contra- 
dictory, 250 ;  as  a  ground  of  faith,  mean- 
ingless and  void,  251. 

Cosmological  proof  of  the  existence  of  God, 
489, 490. 

Cousin,  his  theory  that  religion  had  its  out- 
birth  in  the  spontaneous  apperceptions 
of  reason,  78-84 ;  criticism  thereon,  84-86. 

Criterion  of  truth,  Plato's  search  after,  333, 
334. 

Cudworth,  his  interpretation  of  Grecian 
mythology,  139, 143. 

Cuvier,  on  final  causes,  216,  222. 

D. 

Darwin,  his  inability  to  explain  the  facts 
of  nature  without  recognizing  design, 
221, 222. 

Democritus,  taught  that  atoms  and  the 
vacuum  are  the  beginning  of  all  things, 
292 ;  an  absolute  materialist,  293. 

Dependence,  consciousness  of,  the  founda- 
tion of  primary  religious  emotions,  110- 
113. 

Development,  law  of  mental,  478 ;  three 
successive  stages  clearly  marked,  in  the 
individual,  478— in  the  universal  mind  of 
humanity,  479, 480  ;  (1)  in  the  field  of  The- 
istic  conceptions,  481^94 ;  (2)  in  the  de- 
partment of  morals,  495-509 ;  (3)  in  the 
department  of  religious  sentiment,  509- 
522. 

Dialectic  of  Plato,  353-369. 

Dogmatic  Theologians,  assert  that  all  our 
knowledge  of  God  is  derived  from  the 
teaching  of  the  Scriptures,  86,  167 ;  cast 
doubt  upon  the  principle  of  causality, 
253-255 — upon  the  principle  of  the  uncon- 
ditioned, 255-257— upon  the  principle  of 
unity,  258-261— and  upon  the  immutable 
principles  of  morality,  201-263. 

Dynamical  or  Vital  school  of  ancient  phi- 
losophers, 282-289. 


E. 


m 


Eclecticism  of  Anaxagoras,  311. 

Emotions,  the  religious,  117-122;  senti- 
ment of  the  Divine  exists  in  all  minds, 
119-121 ;  also  instinctive  yearning  after 
the  Invisible,  121, 122. 

Empedocles,  a  believer  in  one  Supreme 
God,  153. 

Epicurus,  his  theory  of  the  origin  of  relig- 
ion, 56, 57 ;  his  Ethics,  427-i32 ;  his  Phys- 
ics, 433-438 ;  taught  that  pleasure  is  the 
chief  end  of  life,  428— that  ignorance  of 
nature  is  the  sole  cause  of  unhappiness, 
432 — that  Physics  and  Psychology  are  the 
only  studies  conducive  to  happiness,  432 
— that  the  universe  is  eternal  and  infinite, 
433— that  concrete  bodies  are  combina- 
tions of  atoms,  434 — that  atoms  have 
spontaneity,  436,  and  some  degree  of  free- 
dom, 436, 437 ;  the  parts  of  the  world  self- 
formed,  437,  438;  plants,  animals,  and 
man  are  spontaneously  generated,  438 ; 
a  state  of  savagism  the  primitive  con- 
dition of  man,  439 ;  his  Atheism,  441 ;  his 
Psychology,  442-444;  the  soul  material 
and  mortal,  445, 446. 

Eternity,  Platonic  nof ion  of,  349  {note),  372, 
373. 

Eternity  of  Matter,  how  taught  by  Plato, 
371-373 ;  distinctly  afiirmed  by  Epicurus, 
433. 

Eternity  of  the  Soul,  Plato's  doctrine  of, 
373-375. 

Ethical  ideas  and  principles,  gradual  de- 
velopment ot,  495, 496 ;  (1)  the  age  of  pop- 
ular and  unconscious  morals,  497, 498 ;  (2) 
the  transitional  or  sophistical  age,  498- 
500 ;  (3)  the  philosophic  or  conscious  age, 
500-506. 

Ethics  of  Plato,  383-387,  502-505 ;  of  Aris- 
totle, 417-421 ;  of  Epicurus,  427-432 ;  of 
the  Stoics,  454-456. 

Expiation  for  sin,  the  need  of,  124;  uni- 
versally acknowledged,  124  —  especially 
in  Grecian  mythology,  125 — and  in  the 
language  of  Greece  and  Rome,  125. 

F. 

Facts  of  the  universe,  classification  of,  175- 
177. 

Fathers,  the  early,  recognized  the  propae- 
deutic office  of  Greek  philosophy,  473-475. 

Feeling,  theories  which  ground  all  religion 
on,  70-74;  its  inadequacy,  74-78. 


CONTENTS. 


527 


Final  Causes,  impossibility  of  interpreting 
nature  without  recognizing,  221,  222 ;  tiie 
^^ssumption  of  final  causes  a  means  of 
discovery,  222,  223 ;  Cuvier  on,  216,  222 ; 
argument  of  Socrates  from,  320-324 ;  Pla- 
to on,  380-382 ;  Aristotle  on,  405, 413, 414; 
teleological  proof  of  tlie  existence  of 
God,  490, 491. 

Force,  the  idea  of,  rejected  by  Comte,  207. 

Forces,  all  of  one  type,  and  that  type  mind, 
211. 

Freedom,  human,  19 ;  exists  under  limita- 
tions, 20 ;  both  admitted  and  denied  by 
Comte,  208,  209 ;  of  Will,  as  taught  by 
Plato,  386,  387 ;  admitted  by  Epicurus, 
436. 

G. 

Geoffroy  St.  Hilaire,  his  pretense  of  not  as- 
cribing any  intentions  to  nature,  216, 
217. 

Geography  and  History,  relations  between, 
14;  opposite  theories  concerning,  15; 
theory  of  Buckle,  16— of  Ritter,  Guyot, 
and  Cousin,  16 ;  the  relation  one  of  ad- 
justment and  harmony,  16. 

God,  universality  of  idea  of.  89 ;  Athenians 
believed  in  one  God.  107,  147,  148 ;  idea 
of  God  a  common  phenomenon  of  human 
intelligence,  168,  169;  the  development 
of  this  idea  dependent  on  experience  con- 
ditions, 169-172  ;  the  phenomena  of  the 
universe  demand  a  God  for  their  expla- 
nation, 172-175 ;  there  are  principles  re- 
vealed in  consciousness  which  necessi- 

,  tate  the  idea  of  God,  184-189  ;  proofs  of 
the  existence  of  God  employed  by  Ar- 
istotle, 412-416  — by  Socrates,  320-324; 
views  of  God  entertained  by  the  Stoics, 
452,  453  ;  logical  proofs  of  the  existence 
of  God  developed  by  Greek  philosophy, 
487^94 ;  gradual  development  of  Theis- 
tic  conception,  481-487. 

Gods  of  Grecian  Mythology,  how  regarded 
by  the  philosophers,  151-157 ;  views  of 
Plato  regarding  them,  383. 

Great  men,  represent  the  spirit  of  their  age, 
20 ;  the  creation  of  a  providence  inter- 
posing in  history,  21. 

Greece,  its  geographical  relations  favorable 
to  free  intercourse  with  the  great  historic 
nations,  35— to  commerce,  36 — to  the  dif- 
fusion of  knowledge,  36— and  to  a  high 
degree  of  civilization,  36 ;  peculiar  con- 
figuration of  Greece  conducive  to  activity 
and  freedom,  36-38— and  independence, 


38 ;  natural  scenery,  43— its  influence  on 
imagination  and  taste,  44. 

Greek  Civilization,  a  preparation  for  Chris- 
tianity, 465-468. 

Greek  Language,  a  providentially  prepared 
vehicle  for  the  perfect  revelation  of  Chris- 
tianity, 468-470. 

Greek  Philosophy,  first  a  philosophy  of 
Nature,  271,  281, 282 ;  next  a  philosophy 
of  Mind,  271,  316-318 ;  lastly  a  philosophy 
of  Life,  271,  422  ;  prepared  tlie  way  for 
Christianity,  457-522. 

Greeks,  the  masses  of  the  people  believed 
in  one  Supreme  God,  147, 148. 

Guilt,  consciousness  of,  a  universal  fact, 
122, 123 ;  recognized  in  Grecian  mythol- 
ogy, 123, 124 ;  awakened  and  deepened 
by  philosophy,  513^18. 

H. 

Hamilton,  Sir  W.,  teaches  that  philosophic 
knowledge  Is  the  knowledge  of  efi"ect8  as 
dependent  on  causes,  224,  225;  and  of 
qualities  as  inherent  in  substances,  225, 
226;  and  yet  asserts  all  human  knowl- 
edge is  necessarily  confined  to  phenome- 
na, 227 ;  his  doctrine  of  the  relativity  of 
all  knowledge,  227,  229-236 ;  his  philos- 
ophy of  the  conditioned,  228 ;  conditional 
limitation  the  law  of  all  thought,  236-242 ; 
the  Infinite  a  mere  negation  of  thought, 
242-246 ;  assertSvj^  must  believe  in  the 
infinity  of  God,  246 ;  takesYefuge  in  faith, 
247 ;  faith  grounded  on  the  law  of  the 
conditioned,  248,  249— that  is,  on  contra- 
diction, 249,  250. 

Hegel,  his  philosophy  of  religion,  65-70. 

Heraclitus,  his  first  principle  ether,  288; 
change,  the  universal  law  of  all  exist- 
ence, 288 ;  a  Materialistic  Pantheist, 
289. 

Hesiod,  on  the  generation  of  the  gods,  142. 

Homer,  his  conception  of  Zeus,  144, 145. 

Homeric  doctrine  of  sin,  513, 514. 

Homeric  theology,  143-145, 509,  510. 

Humanity,  fundamental  ideas  and  laws  of, 
18 ;  developed  and  modified  by  exterior 
conditions,  19 ;  the  most  favorable  con- 
ditions existed  in  Athen 


Idealism,  furnishes  no  adequate  explana- 
tion of  the  common  belief  in  an  external 
world,  198, 199— and  of  a  personal  self, 


528 


CONTENTS. 


200-202;  Cosmothetic  Idealism,  305 ;  ab- 
solute Idealism,  305. 

Ideas,  Platonic  doctrine  of,  334-337;  Pla- 
tonic scheme  of,  364-36T. 

Images  of  the  gods,  how  regarded  by  Cice- 
ro, 129— by  Plutarch,  129 ;  the  heathens 
apologized  for  the  use  of  images,  159. 

Immortality  of  the  soul,  taught  by  Socra- 
tes, 324— and  by  Plato,  375,  376;  denied 
by  Epicurus,  444-446. 

Incarnation,  the  idea  of,  not  unfamiliar  to 
heathen  thought,  512. 

Induction,  the  psychological  method  of  Pla- 
to, 356, 357. 

Induction  and  Deduction,  Aristotle  on,  397, 
398. 

Infinite,  the,  not  a  mere  negation  of 
thought,  242-244 ;  known  as  the  necessa- 
ry correlative  of  the  finite,  245 ;  as  com- 
prehensible in  itself,  as  the  finite  is  com- 
prehensible in  itself,  246 ;  in  what  sense 
known,  252. 

Infinite  Series,  the  phrase,  when  literally 
construed,  a  contradiction,  181, 182. 

Infinity,  qualitative  and  quantitative,  239 ; 
qualitative  infinity  possessed  by  God 
alone,  184, 239. 

Intentionalily,  principle  of,  190 ;  denied  by 
Materialists,  194 ;  a  first  law  of  thought, 
221-223 ;  recognized  by  Socrates,  320-324. 

Ionian  School  of  Philosophy,  a  physical 
and  sensational  school,  281 ;  subdivided 
into  Mechanical  and  Dynamical,  282, 283. 

Italian  School  of  Philosophy,  an  Idealist 
school,  281 ;  subdivided  into  the  Mathe- 
matical and  Metaphysical,  282, 296. 

J. 
Jacobi,  his  faith-philosophy,  71. 


Knowledge,  Hamilton's  doctrine  of  rela- 
tivity of,  229-236;  opposite  theories  of 
knowledge  among  ancient  philosophers, 
330, 331 ;  the  tendency  of  these  theories, 
332 ;  Plato's  theory  of,  333,  334 ;  Plato's 
science  of  real  knowledge,  337, 338. 


Language,  inadequate  to  convey  the  idea 
of  God,  92-94 ;  Greek  language  the  best 
medium  for  the  Christian  revelation,  468- 
470. 


Leucippus,  his  first  principles  atoms  and 
»pace,  291 ;  a  pure  Materialist,  292. 

Logic  of  Aristotle,  394-403. 

Logical  Treatises  of  Aristotle,  395, 396. 

Lucretius,  the  expounder  of  the  doctrines 
of  Epicurus,  426, 427  -,  his  account  of  the 
origin  of  worlds,  437, 438 ;  of  plants,  ani- 
mals, and  man,  438. 

M. 

Mansel,  bases  religion  on  feeling  of  de- 
pendence, 72— and  sense  of  obligation, 
73. 

Materialists  deny  the  principle  of  causality, 
194,  203— and  of  inteutionality  or  final 
cause,  211-225;  Anaximander,  Leucip- 
pus, and  Democritus  belong  to  the  ma- 
terialistic school,  286-293;  Epicurus  a 
materialist,  442-446. 

Mathematical  Infinite,  not  absolute,  179, 
ISO;  capable  of  exact  measurement, 
therefore  limited,  180;  infinite  sphere, 
radius,  line,  etc.,  self-contradictory,  180, 
181. 

Matter,  did  Plato  teach  the  eternity  of? 
371-373 ;  the  doctrine  of  the  Stoics  con- 
cerning matter,  449  {note). 

Matter  and  Form,  Aristotle  on,  405-408. 

Mean,  Aristotle's  doctrine  of  the,  420. 

Mediator,  consciousness  of  the  need  of  a, 
awakened  by  Greek  philosophy,  509-513. 

Metaphysical  thought,  law  of  its  develop- 
ment, 478^180 ;  three  different  stages  in 
the  individual  mind,  478, 479  ;  and  in  the 
universal  consciousness  of  our  race,  479. 

Metempsychosis,  regarded  by  Plato  as  a 
mere  hypothesis,  376  {note). 

Mill,  J.  S.,  his  doctrine  that  all  knowledge 
is  confined  to  mental  phenomena,  193 ; 
his  definition  of  matter,  196  ;  his  views 
of  personal  identity,  196, 197 ;  his  theo- 
logical opinions,  197. 

Miracles,  not  designed  to  prove  the  exist- 
ence of  God,  95. 

Moral  principles,  universal  and  immuta- 
ble, which  lead  to  the  recognition  of  a 
God,  190 ;  the  Dogmatic  Theologians  seek 
to  invalidate  the  argument  therefrom, 
261-263. 

Mystics,  base  all  religious  knowledge  on 
internal  feeling,  70. 

Mythology,  philosophy  of  Greek,  134-139 ; 
Cudworth's  interpretation  of,  139-143; 
recognized  the  consciousness  of  guilt  and 
need  of  expiation,  123-125. 


CONTENTS. 


529 


N. 


National  Character,  a  complex  result,  17 ; 
conjoint  effect  of  moral  and  physical  in 
fluences,  17;  human  freedom  not  to  be 
disregarded  in  the  study  of,  20 ;  influence 
of  geographical  surroundings,  23 — of  cli- 
mate and  natural  scenery,on  the  pursuits 
and  mental  character  of  nations,  23— on 
creative  art,  24— and  literature  of  nations, 
25. 

Nations,  individuality  of,  22 ;  determined 
mainly  from  without,  22. 

Natural  Eealism,  305 ;  Anaxagoras  a  natu- 
ral realist,  311-313. 

Nature,  interpreted  by  man  according  to 
fundamental  laws  of  his  reason,  133. 


Obligation,  the  sense  of,  lies  at  the  founda- 
tion of  religion,  115. 

Ontological  proof  of  the  existence  of  God, 
491-493. 

Ontology,  of  Plato,  369-379 ;  the  subject- 
matter  of  the  world  of  sense,  370-373 ;  the 
permanent  substratum  of  mental  phe- 
nomena, 373-376;  the  first  Principle  of 
all  principles— God,  377-379,  491-493. 

Optimism  of  Plato,  382. 

Order  of  the  Universe,  had  it  a  beginning, 
or  is  it  eternal  ?  178-184. 

Order,  principle  of,  pervades  the  universe, 
220,  221 ;  recognized  by  Pythagoras,  301 ; 
Cosmological  proof  of  the  existence  of 
God,  489, 490. 


Parmenides,  his  theory  of  knowledge, 
307-308 ;  a  spiritualistic  Pantheist,  308, 
309. 

Paul,  St.,  at  Athens,  14 ;  his  emotion  when 
he  saw  the  city  full  of  idols,  100 ;  the  sub- 
ject of  his  discourse,  101 ;  brought  into 
contact  with  all  the  phases  of  philosophic 
thpught,  268,  269 ;  his  arrival  at  Athens 
an  epoch  in  the  moral  history  of  the 
world,  472 ;  he  recognized  the  prepara- 
tory office  of  Greek  philosophy,  473. 

Philosophers  of  Athens,  101 ;  believed  in 
one  supreme,  uncreated,  eternal  God, 
151-157 ;  their  views  of  the  mythological 
deities,  158, 159 ;  their  apologies  for  im- 
ages and  image-worship,  159, 160. 

Philosophic  Schools,  classification  of,  271- 

34 


273 ;  Pre-Socratic,  280-314 ;  Socratic,  314- 
421 ;  Post-Socratic,  422-450. 

Philosophy,  the  world-enduring  monument 
of  the  glory  of  Athens,  265,  266 ;  defined, 
270, 271 ;  an  inquiry  after  first  causes  and 
principles,  271,  457 ;  not  in  any  proper 
sense  a  theological  inquiry,  273-277, 279 ; 
the  love  of  wisdom,  384, 385. 

Philosophy  in  its  relation  to  Christianity, 
268-270;  sympathy  of  Platonism,  268; 
antagonism  of  Epicureanism  and  Stoi- 
cism, 269 ;  the  Propaedeutic  office  of  phi- 
losophy, 457-524— recognized  by  St.  Paul, 
473— and  many  of  the  early  Fathers,  473- 
475 ;  philosophy  undermined  Polytheism, 
and  purified  the  Theistic  idea,  481-i87 ; 
developed  the  Theistic  argument  in  a 
logical  form,  487-494 ;  it  awakened  Con- 
science and  purlfied.the  Ethical  idea,  495- 
500;  demonstrated  the  insufficiency  of 
reason  to  elaborate  a  perfect  ideal  of 
m6ral  excellence,  506-609  ;  awakened  in 
man  the  sense  of  distance  from  God,  and 
the  need  of  a  Mediator,  509-513 ;  deep- 
ened the  conscicusness  of  sin,  and  the  de- 
sire for  a  Redeemer,  513-522 ;  the  history 
of  philosophy  a  confirmation  of  the  truth 
of  Christianity,  522-524. 

Philosophy  of  Keligion,  53 ;  based  on  the 
correlation  between  Divine  and  human 
reason,  458-462. 

Plato,  condemns  the  poets  for  their  un- 
worthy representations  of  the  gods,  130- 
132 ;  his  views  of  the  gods  of  Grecian  my- 
thology, 154-157 :  the  sympathy  of  his 
philosophy  with  Christianity,  268;  fol- 
lowed the  philosophic  method  of  Socra- 
tes, 328 ;  his  moral  qualifications  for  the 
study  of  philosophy,  328,  329 ;  his  lite- 
rary qualifications,  329,  330 ;  his  search 
after  a  criterion  of  truth,  333,  834 ;  his 
doctrine  of  Ideas,  334-337 ;  his  science  of 
real  knowledge,  337,  338 ;  his  answer  to 
the  question,  What  is  Science  ?  338,  339 ; 
his  Psychology  339-352 ;  his  scheme  of 
the  intellectual  powers,  345 ;  on  the  na- 
ture of  the  soul,  350 ;  his  dialectic,  353- 
369  ;  his  grand  scheme  of  ideas,  364-367 ; 
his  Ontology,  369-379;  on  the  creation 
of  time,  372 ;  did  he  teach  that  matter  is 
eternal  ?  371,  372 ;  on  the  eternity  of  the 
rational  element  of  the  soul,  373-375 ;  ou 
the  immortality  of  the  soul,  375,  376 ;  on 
God  as  the  First  Principle  of  all  princi- 
ples, 37J^T9;  LlH  FhVslcs.  380-383;  his 
Ethicfc  383-387,  502-505 ;  defects  of  his 


550 


CONTENTS. 


ethical  system,  618 ;  his  philosophy  not 
derived  from  Jewish  sources,  476;  felt 
the  need  of  a  superhuman  deliverer  from 
sin  and  guilt,  519-521. 

Plutarch,  his  sketches  of  Athenian  charac- 
ter, 44 ;  criticism  on,  45 ;  on  the  univer- 
sality of  prayer  and  sacrifice,  115. 

Poets,  the  Greek,  believed  in  the  existence 
of  one  uncreated  Mind,  141 ;  their  the- 
ogony  was  a  cosmogony,  142 ;  the  theo- 
logians of  Greece,  274, 275. 

Polytheism,  Greek,  a  poeti co-historical  re- 
ligion of  myth  and  symbol,  134 ;  its  im- 
moralities, 160, 161 ;  undermined  by  Phi- 
losophy, 4S4-4S7. 

Post-Socratic  Schools,  classification  of,  425 ; 
a  philosophy  of  life,  422-424, 

Potentiality  and  Actuality,  Arjstotle  on, 
40S-412. 

Prayer,  natural  to  man,  115. 

Preparation  for  Christianity,  not  confined 
to  Judaism  alone,  464,  465;  Greek  Civil- 
ization also  prepared  the  way  for  Christ, 

;  465-468 ;  Greek  language  a  providential 
development  as  the  vehicle  of  a  more  per- 
fect revelation,  468-470  ;  Greek  philoso- 
phy fulfilled  a  propaedeutic  office,  470- 
472. 

Pre-Socratic  Schools,  classification  of,  280- 
282;  295,296. 

Principles,  universal  and  necessary,  how  at- 
tained by  the  method  of  Plato,  361-364, 
890 ;  how,  by  the  method  of  Aristotle, 
x390-394, 402, 403. 

Psychological  analysis,  logical  demonstra- 
tion of  the  existence  of  God  begins  with, 
170 ;  reveals  principles  which  in  their 
logical  development  attain  to  the  knowl- 
edge of  God,  184-189, 

Psychology  of  Heraclitns,  289 ;  of  Pythag- 
oras, 304  ;  of  Parmenides,  307,  308 ;  of 
Anaxagoras,  313 ;  of  Protagoras,  315 ;  of 
Socrates,  317,  318 ;  of  Plato,  339-S52 ;  of 
Aristotle,  392,  398-401 ;  of  Epicurus,  442- 
444 ;  of  the  Stoics,  453, 454, 

Pythagoras,  his  doctrine  that  numbers  are 
the  first  principles  of  things,  297 ;  how  to 
be  interpreted,  297-304;  misrepresented 
by  Aristotle,  298-300  ;  psychology  of,  304. 


E. 


Eeason,  insufficiency  of,  to  elaborate  a  per- 
fect ideal  of  moral  excellence,  506-609. 

Redemption,  desire  of,  awakened  and  de- 
fined by  Greek  philosophy,  513-521. 


Relativity  of  all  knowledge,  Hamilton's 
doctrine  of,  229-236. 

Religion,  the  philosophy  of,.  53;  defined, 
53, 106;  universality  of  religious  phenom- 
ena, 54 ;  hypothesis  oflered  in  explana- 
tion of,  55 ;  hypothesis  of  Epicurus  and 
Comte,  56-65— of  Hegel,  65-70— of  Jacob! 
and  Schleiermacher,  70-78— of  Cousin, 
78-86— of  Dogmatic  Theologians,  86-96— 
author's  theory,  96,  97 ;  religion  of  the 
Athenians,  98— its  mythological  and  sym- 
bolic aspects,  128 — exerted  some  whole- 
some infiuences,  161-163. 

Reminiscence,  Plato  on,  354, 355. 

Revelation,  progressive,  462^64 ;  harmony 
of  the  two  revelations  in  the  volume  of 
conscience  and  the  volume  of  the  New 
Testament,  522-624. 


S. 


Sacrifice,  universal  prevalence  of^ll5, 124 ; 
prompted  by  the  universal  consciousness 
of  guilt,  126;  expiatory  sacrifices  ground- 
ed on  a  primitive  revelation,  127. 

Schleiermacher,  his  theory  that  all  religion 
is  grounded  on  the  feeling  of  absolute 
dependence,  71,  72. 

Science,  Plato's  answer  to  the  question, 
What  is  Science?  338, 339. 

Self-determmation,  limited  by  idea  of  duty, 
113 ;  implies  accountability,  114 ;  recog- 
nizes a  Lawgiver  and  Judge,  115. 

Socrates,  his  desire  for  truth,  316 ;  his  dae- 
mon, 317  {note) ;  his  philosophic  method, 
318,  319 ;  a  believer  in  one  Supreme  God, 
320 ;  #iis  argument  for  the  existence  of 
God  from  final  causes,  320-324 ;  his  be- 
lief in  immortality. and  a  future  retribu- 
tion, 824, 325 ;  his  Ethics,  825 ;  the  great 
prophet  of  the  human  conscience,  500- 
502. 

Socratic  School,  314. 

Sophists,  315, 316 ;  their  skeptical  tenden- 
cy, 315 ;  their  defective  ethics,  498,  499, 

Sophocles,  believed  in  one  Supreme  Gk)d, 
147. 

Soul,  Plato  on  the  nature  of  the,  350,  3T3 ; 
eternity  of  the  rational  element,  373- 
375, 

Spencer,  H.,  carries  the  law  of  the  Con- 
ditioned forward  to  its  logical  conse- 
quences, Atheism,  241,  242. 

Stoical  School,  446 ;  its  philosophy  a  moral 
philosophy,  447. 

Stoics,  their  Physiology,  448-453;    their 


CONTENTS. 


531 


Psychology,  453,  454;  their  Ethics,  454^ 
45G ;  their  Theology,  452, 453. 

Substance,  principle  of,  189 ;  Idealism  seeks 
to  undermine  it,  193 ;  Reason  affirms  a 
permanent  substance  as  the  ground  of 
all  mental  phenomena,  201— and  of  the 
phenomena  of  the  sensible  world,  202,203. 

Sufficient  Reason,  law  of,  recognized  by 
Plato,  359. 

Superstition,  meaning  of  the  term  as  used 
by  Paul,  103. 


Teleological  proof  of  the  existence  of  God, 
490, 491. 

Thales,  a  believer  in  one  uncreated  God, 
152 ;  his  first  principles,  2S3 ;  he  regards 
water  as  the  material  cause,  284 ;  and  God 
as  the  efficient  cause,  285. 

Theistic  argument,  in  its  logical  form,  487- 
494. 

Theistiq  conception,  gradual  development 
of,  481-484. 

Theological  opinions  of  the  early  periods 
of  Greek  civilization,  150, 151 ;  2T6-278. 

Theology  of  Aristotle,  404-417;  identical 
with  Metaphysics,  404^  416. 

Theology  of  the  Greek  poetsj  143-151 ;  pro- 
posed reform  of  Poetry  by  Plato,  131, 132. 

Thinking,  conditionality  of,  228 ;  in  what 
sense  to  be  understood,  237;  thought 
imposes  no  limits  upon  the  object  of 
thought,  237,  238. 

Thought,  negative  and  positive,  242,  243 ; 
negative  thought  an  impossibility,  243 ; 
all  thought  must  be  positive,  243. 

Time,  Platonic  notion  of,  371,  372. 

Tragedians,  the  Greek,  were  the  public  re- 
ligious teachers  of  the  Athenians,  145 ; 
their  theology,  146, 147 ;  influence  of  the 
religious  dramas  on  the  Athenian  mind, 
161-163 ;  guiltiness  of  man,  and  need  of 
reconciliation  confessed  by,  515-517. 

U. 

Unconditioned,  principle  of,  189 ;  assailed 
by  Hamilton,  194. 

Unity  of  God,  259 ;  an  affirmation  of  rea- 
son, 259-261 ;  Xenophanes  taught  the 
unity  of  God,  307— also  Parmenides,  309 
—and  Plato,  377— and  Aristotle,  415. 

Unity,  principle  of,  189 ;  attempt  of  Dog- 
matic Theologians  to  prove  its  insuffi- 


ciency, 194,  258-261 ;  recognized  by  Py- 
thagoras, 296 ;  his  eflEbrt  to  reduce  all  the 
phenomena  of  nature  to  a  Unity,  303, 
304. 

Universal  and  necessary  Principles,  classi- 
fication of,  189, 190 :  these  the  foundation 
of  our  cognition  of  a  God,  191 ;  how  at- 
tained according  to  Plato,  360-364  ;  how 
by  the  method  of  Aristotle,  390-394, 402, 
403, 

Universe,  the,  is  it  finite  or  infinite  ?  178- 
184 ;  Epicurus  teaches  that  it  is  infinite, 
433. 

Unknown  God,  the  true  God,  104 ;  God  not 
absolutely  unknown,  107-110 ;  classifica- 
tion of  opponents  to  the  doctrine  that 
God  can  be  cognized  by  reason,  160-168 ; 
Idealist  School  of  Mill,  194-203 ;  Materi- 
alistic School  of  Comte,  203-223 ;  Ham- 
iltonian  School,  224-252  ;  School  of  Dog- 
matic Theologians,  252-263. 


W. 


Watson,  Richard,  represents  the  views  of 
Dogmatic  Theologians,  86 ;  asserts  that 
all  our  religious  knowledge  is  derived 
from  oral  revelation,  86-88, 167 ;  incom- 
pleteness and  inadequacy  of  this  theory, 
88-96 ;  in  vindicating  for  the  Scriptures 
the  honor  of  revealing  all  our  knowledge 
of  God,  he  casts  doubt  upon  the  principle 
of  Causality,  253-255 — on  the  principle  of 
the  Unconditioned,  255-257— on  the  prin- 
ciple of  Unity,  258-261— and  on  the  im- 
mutable principles  of  Morality,  261-263. 

Wordsworth,  on  the  sentiment  of  the  Di- 
vine, 118. 


Xenophanes,  his  attack  on  Polytheism, 
130 ;  his  faith  in  one  God,  153, 306,  307. 

Z. 

Zeno  of  Citium,  the  founder  of  the  Stoical 

School,  446 ;  a  Spiritualistic  Pantheist, 

450,  451. 
Zeno  of  Elea,  maintained  the  doctrine  of 

Absolute  Identity,  309. 
Zeus,  originally  the  Supreme  and  only  God 

of  the  Greeks,  143  ;  the  Homeric  Zeus, 

the  Supreme  God,  144, 145. 


THE  END. 


14  DAY  USE 

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